More Meddling
by film princess
Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making himself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…
1. Come to Me

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making himself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

John glanced up into the rearview once more as he saw Dean start to stir. His heartbeat slowed back down slightly as his son remained asleep against his little brother's shoulder. The eldest Winchester wasn't ready to face what he had done to his children just yet. He was still on edge about the demon getting his hands on his boys in the first place.

It had been close. Too close. He could have lost them both out of sheer stupidity. What had he been thinking, letting the boys go to school with such serious injuries? One small mistake nearly cost him everything. He almost wished he had had enough of Missouri's concoction to wipe his _own_ memory clean, but he knew that he had to learn from his mistakes, and to do so required remembering that they had occurred in the first place.

He would do anything to prevent the past from happening again, but he knew the possibility was there. The demon had gotten away yet again. One more failure to add to John Winchester's growing list. The bastard was going to pay. Of that, there was no doubt. No one messed with a Winchester and got away with it.

Now, his main concern was what Dean had said to him before forcing down the vile drink…

_John turned to Dean only to find him clutching the full cup of potion with both hands. He was staring into it as though he were holding a cup full of poison._

"_Go on, son. Drink it up," John prodded._

"_Dad, please don't make me do this again."_

_John was completely nonplused. Dean couldn't possibly…_

"_Again? You…you remember the day your mom died?"_

"_Yeah. Have for a long time. It just never seemed like the right time to say anything."_

"_Jeez, Dean… I didn't know this stuff wore off…"_

"_I don't know if it did. I just always had this feeling that I was missin' something, like there was a void of emptiness when I knew there should have been somethin' there, so I pursued it until eventually bits and pieces started comin' back."_

"_You know this drink will give you peace of mind? At least, as long as you don't pursue the truth again…"_

"_I can't… I don't want to feel that void again, dad. Please don't make me drink it this time."_

_His son's pleading was tearing at John's heartstrings, but he couldn't bear the thought of dealing with Dean's newly acquired emotional pain. It just wasn't in his genes._

"_Dean, I… Please, son. Just do as I say."_

_Dean dropped his gaze to the floor in defeat. After all, he never disobeyed a direct order._

"_Yes, sir."_

_A tear slipped silently down his cheek as he lifted the cup to his lips, then after a slight hesitation, he grimaced as the foul mixture made its way down his throat. Seconds later, he was handing the empty cup to his father._

"_Thank you, Dean." John had never been more sincere in his life._

He prayed to God Dean wouldn't pursue _these_ missing memories as well. He had never discovered a backup to Missouri's herbal remedies. If this didn't hold, he didn't know what would.

Dean sat silently in the backseat of the Impala next to Sammy, pretending to be asleep. His mind was working overtime, battling the blanket that had been placed over his most recent memories.

He hated that feeling: the empty void in his soul. He was so sure he hated it, that he realized he must have felt this way before. If only he could remember… Had he purposefully blocked it out, or was it the cause of an injury…? Whatever the reason, Dean was almost positive that with a little persistence, he could crack the walls that hid his recent past from him. His gut was telling him to keep his digging a secret from his father, and his gut was never wrong.

He also had a gut feeling that something terrible had happened during his missing time, giving him a slight sense of foreboding the further he dug. He shifted slightly, leaning his head against his brother's for comfort and support. With Sammy by his side, he knew his little brother was safe, and that thought alone gave him enough strength to continue his pursuit of the truth.

John hadn't made it too far when his own exhaustion that had compiled over the last few days was beginning to take over. Glancing once more at his boys huddled in the back, he decided that they had gone far enough today and they could all use a real bed right now. He cruised for a few more minutes before pulling off onto the next exit that advertised crappy motels. Perfect. Home sweet home. That's the life of a Winchester.

He checked them into a room, then went back to the car to wake up the boys who had yet to stir. It was kind of eerie how still they were, even after John's door had creaked obnoxiously open and then slammed shut again.

John eased Sam's door open, glad they were leaning towards each other and not against the windows where they would fall out. Dean decided his little charade would be a bit too obvious if he didn't wake soon and reluctantly cracked his eyes open. He blinked a few times to really sell it, then turned confused and bleary eyes to his dad.

"Why are we stopping? Where are we?"

"Hey, Bud. Just decided we've gone far enough for one day. We could all use a nice day of rest before we go any further. Can you take the bags in?"

"Yeah, I got 'em."

John gently shook Sam's shoulder. "Hey, kiddo. Rise and shine…"

Sam groaned and turned his head away from the blinding light that was reflecting off a nearby car. In doing so, he rolled off of Dean, allowing his brother to slide out the other side and retrieve their bags from the trunk.

John smiled fondly down at his sleeping boy. Always the stubborn one. He hadn't carried either of his boys since Dean was four and Sammy was old enough to walk, but he figured today he could make an exception. He gently slid his arms under Sam's knees and behind his back, then lifted him from the car. Sam's head lolled perfectly into the crook of his arm where he snuggled comfortably, unaware of his actions.

Dean smiled affectionately from the door as he glanced back and saw the subtle bonding moment between his dad and little brother. Sammy was a lot easier to get along with when he was asleep rather than alert and picking fights with their dad. He entered the room and dropped the bags in front of their designated beds, then plopped heavily down on the one farthest from the door. It was John's rule that the boys shared that one, and he took the one closest to the door so he had a better chance of protecting them.

John nudged the door closed behind him with a booted foot, then placed Sam on the bed next to his brother. Dean took over being the caretaker. He slid off Sammy's over shirt and sneakers, then tucked him in beneath the ratty but warm covers. He purposefully ignored the large, questionable stain on the comforter. You get what you paid for, right?

Their dad moved over to his own bed and sank heavily onto it, wiping a tired hand across his face before lying down on top of the sheets fully clothed. He was out within minutes. Dean slid off his own boots and over shirt to get comfortable, but had no intentions of falling asleep. He was still on a quest: to fill the empty void that was beginning to ache inside of him. The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became. Dean grumbled in annoyance when he realized all this concentration was starting to bring on a migraine.

He laid down next to his sleeping brother, closed his eyes, and massaged his temples. These damn migraines had been a curse of his since he was little. It was extremely rare he had two in one month though, and he remembered having one not too long ago. Mind you, he wasn't even sure what day it was anymore. _I bet it's connected to this void… If only I could remember…_

Dean drifted off in spite of himself. He was just too damn worn out to fight his exhaustion any longer. Of the three, only Sammy slept peacefully. John's rest was plagued with nightmares, and Dean's migraine was building even while he was unconscious.

John knew he was dreaming the second he saw her, but it didn't make it feel any less real. She was as beautiful as the day she had been taken from him. She reached out to him, calling softly.

"Come to me, John. I need you. Please, come to me…"

"Mary?" The word came out broken, painful. A shiver ghosted down his spine and he felt goose bumps race up and down his body. _This isn't real, this isn't real…_

"I love you, John…"

A movement in the shadows of his mind caught John's eyes and he growled as the demon stepped forward into the light, smirking darkly at him.

"You were too late, John. She died because of you."

Mary let out a blood curdling scream as she burst into flames above his head.

"Mary! NO!"

John rolled in one direction on his bed, then the other trying to escape his dream. The demon's cackling filled his ears. It was almost loud enough to mask the soft moans of pain. Almost, but not quite. His hunter's ears picked up the sound and honed in on it, using it to help pull him back to consciousness.

One last time he glanced up at the ceiling and into his once beautiful wife's eyes. They were filled with pain, but not from the fire. It was as though she could sense how much her death was going to affect her perfect family. John reached a hand towards her but she was too far away.

Suddenly her eyes changed from woeful to a bright yellow and she grinned evilly at him.

"Come to me, John!"

John jolted upright, sweating profusely and trying to gain a grip on reality. He couldn't stop his eyes from darting to the ceiling.

"Damn it, John, get a hold of yourself! That was eleven years ago!" he berated himself quietly, making sure he didn't wake the boys. Then he heard the pain-filled moans again and his heart clenched. Now he recognized the sound. It was Dean.

He bolted to his boys' bed to find Dean curled in a ball, grasping his head in his hands as though attempting to keep it from exploding.

"Dean?! What is it?"

Sam woke to his father's frantic tone and turned to his brother, concern and fear blanketing his face the instant he laid eyes on him.

"Dad? What's wrong with him?" Sam sounded scared.

"I dunno yet. Dean? Hey, kiddo… Talk to me, son. Is it another migraine?" John gently gripped Dean's chin and lifted it to find that Dean had scrunched his eyes shut against the pain blazing through his skull. This was one of the worst migraines he could ever remember having. As of now, only John and Bobby knew what the cause of it was. The demon had to be close. He needed to get his boys as far away from here as he possibly could.

John sat down on the bed and gripping him under the arms, pulled Dean up to a sitting position against his chest. He held him tightly, rocking them both and whispering words of comfort in his suffering child's ear. Careful to keep his voice low, he turned to his youngest son.

"Sam, I need you to bring our bags back out to the car. We need to get goin'."

"But dad! He's in a lot of pain! He should just stay here and rest a while!" Sam's concern was growing into anger at his father's lack of concern for Dean.

"Trust me for once in your life, Sam. We have to get as far away from here as possible. It's the best thing for him. Now go." John wanted to shout his commands to get his point across. Between the nightmare and his inability to protect his children, he was a bit frustrated. But he also knew how much pain a migraine could cause and that raising his voice even slightly would increase the torture ten fold. So he managed to keep himself restrained, if just barely. Leave it to the demon to ruin the one time John and Sam hadn't been arguing.

Sam huffed and glared at his father before stalking over to the bags and dragging them out the door towards the Impala.

John focused his attention back on Dean who was writhing in his arms and biting back his cries of pain.

"Hang in there, Dean. I'm gonna make this better. I promise."

He kissed his son on the top of the head and realized how sweaty and clammy his boy really was. Dean was known to battle the worst of pain without giving off the slightest hint to an untrained eye. He could even fool John these days, but never Sammy. Clearly, this pain had gotten the best of him. Even at the school it hadn't been this bad, not that Dean would remember having had a migraine there.

The demon was a lot closer than John would have liked to admit. He berated himself for stopping in the first place. He thought he was helping his boys by letting them rest, not setting them up for more pain.

"Dad?" Dean whimpered out between his gritted teeth. "Make it stop…"

"I will. I will." He glanced up at the door as Sam came storming back in for the last bag, sending a heated gaze to his father. "Almost ready, Sam?"

"Last one. I'll wait in the car." With that, he lugged the bag outside.

John sighed. He knew there was no way Sam could understand his urgency right now. He would put their disagreement on the backburner until Dean was safe again. Sarcastically, he thought, _I can't WAIT for Sam to be a teenager…_

"Alright, kiddo. Let's get you into the car." He was going to do right by his boys this time. He was going to take them away from the pain. As John moved to slide out from behind his now shaking son, the cell phone in his pocket began to ring.

TBC

Like it, hate it? Suggestions? Sorry it took me SOOOOO long to start writing again! I didn't want to keep using the same ideas over and over, and it took forever to find something new! In fact, I owe moutainmomma a huge thanks for the character of Ethan you are going to meet in the next chapter! If anyone can feed my muse, feel free to do so so I can update sooner rather than later!! Thanks a bunch, and I'm glad you've all stuck with me through the lull!


	2. Diversion

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

"Damn it… Hang in there, Dean." John pulled his cell from his pocket, keeping his other arm wrapped tightly around his son's shaking form to keep him from falling off the bed. "Now's not really a good time…"

"John? What's wrong?" came Bobby's gruff voice.

"Oh, hey, Bobby. Dean's havin' another migraine. I've gotta get him away from here."

"Damn."

"Why? What's up?"

"Nothin'. Just Sam's teacher contacted me a few minutes ago. Said she has a new kid in her class that might be the son of a hunter as well."

"Yeah? What makes her think that?"

"Said he's a lot like Dean. She's seen a few scars on his arms and face and looked like he was in a lot of pain today but was playin' the tough card."

"This kid got a name?"

"Ethan Collins."

"Never heard of him."

"Me either, but I suppose that doesn't mean anything. She's not sure if she should approach him yet or not. Thought it might be somethin' you'd wanna check out."

"Bobby… I can't. You know I can't. It's just not safe…"

"I understand. I'll let her know. It's not yer problem, John. You just get those boys as far away from here as you can."

"Are you gonna look into it?"

"Probably."

"Alright. Keep me informed."

"Will do. Call me when Dean's okay."

"You got it. See ya, Bobby."

Both men hung up at the same time. John glanced down at his boy, contemplating his choices. He knew he should go, but it might be good for his boys to know another hunter their age so they wouldn't feel so alone. Why did the kid have to show up here? Of all places… Maybe his dad was hunting the same demon? Maybe they could work together and destroy it once and for all… Damn the world. Dean didn't deserve this.

"Son? You still with me?" he whispered, tightening his grip slightly.

Dean nodded once before realizing it was a really big mistake. Though he stopped his head from moving, the rest of the room continued, making his stomach clench painfully and bile rise up the back of his throat.

"Dad, I…" Dean gasped out before lunging forward and being violently sick all over the blood red carpet.

"Easy, Dean. Don't fight it. Just let it all out. Not like we're stickin' around in this room anyway."

But Dean felt mortified and weak throwing up in front of his dad. He fought the nausea with everything he had, but it only seemed to make the pain in his head increase. It was now throbbing to the same beat of his heart which was growing more rapid as he began to panic. His throat was closing up and he was having trouble breathing.

John could hear his son's wheezing and realized the migraine had brought on a panic attack. Not good.

"Dean, you need to calm down. There is nothing preventing you from breathing, you hear me? It's all in your head. Just try to relax…"

Dean was panting harshly. The harder it was to breathe, the more he panicked, and the more he panicked, the harder it was to breathe. It was a vicious cycle. And the faster his heart pounded, the worse his head throbbed. Tears were streaming down his face, but he couldn't even feel them over everything else.

His hands scrabbled weakly against his dad's chest, begging for help that his father was trying desperately to provide.

"Dean! Listen to me! You need to calm down now. That's an order, son."

Ever the good soldier, Dean fought against everything to attempt to follow his dad's orders.

"Breathe with me, kiddo. In… and out… That's it. You're doin' fine… Now do it again…"

Every breath was a struggle, but Dean was no stranger to hardships. He focused his mind solely on breathing, blocking out all other pain.

John rubbed soothing circles over Dean's back and kept the other hand planted firmly against his son's chest to monitor his progress.

"You're doin' great, kiddo. Nice and easy…" As he spoke soft words of comfort, a dark figure moved past the far window. Being a hunter, John didn't miss it. He glanced up and his own heart skipped a beat when he found himself gazing into two brilliantly bright yellow eyes. The demon smirked at him, then moved out of sight with a taunting wink.

"Son of a bitch..." John clutched Dean closer to himself before his brain started functioning properly again. His youngest was still outside in the car. "Jesus… Sammy!"

John shoved a gun into Dean's sweaty hands and propped him up against the pillows. "Stay here, Dean, and shoot anything that comes through that door that isn't me or Sam, you understand?"

"Dad…? What's… wrong?" Dean panted, starting to feel the panic climbing again at his father's words and sudden change in demeanor.

"I have to go get Sammy. Do NOT move from that bed, you hear me?"

"Y-yes, sir."

With that, John dove for the door, wrenched it open, and made a beeline for the Impala.

Dean sat motionless on his bed, clutching the gun in his hands tightly, but unaware of what he was up against. He hadn't seen the shadow in the window, but something had clearly alarmed his father. _Oh god… If anything happens to Sammy, it'll be all my fault… Why am I so weak?!_

"Hiya, Dean," a smooth, deep voice greeted from the darkest shadows of the room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

John flung the rear door open, frantically hoping his youngest would still be waiting inside. He nearly sunk to the ground in relief as a highly confused by unharmed Sam stared back at him.

"You okay, Sammy?"

"Pissed at you, but other than that…"

"He didn't come after you?"

"He who? Dean? He was with you last time I knew…"

"No, not Dean… Nevermind. Point is you're okay. But why is he… Shit. It was a trick! Get out now and stay with me, Sam!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Who the hell are you?" Dean demanded, training his gun steadily on the shadows. The problem was, the shadows seemed to keep moving.

"An old friend. What… you don't remember me?" The voice echoed all around the room, making it hard to pinpoint where it was coming from.

"Should I?" Dean baited.

"Your daddy sure does. Why don't you come for a walk with me, Deano?"

"Yeah right, like I'm gonna fall for _that_ one! Do I _look _like an idiot to you? Wait… Don't answer that…"

"Fair enough. I just dropped by to say hi anyway. By the way… How's your head doing?"

"What are you talkin' about?" Playing dumb always seemed to be the best option in these particular situations. _A soldier has to find out what the enemy knows without supplying him with new information_.

"I heard you were experiencing some memory loss… maybe a few headaches? I've only got your best interest at heart." The voice sounded closer, but as Dean spun he could not see its source.

"Nope. Sorry, you've got the wrong guy," he growled in response.

"I'm only trying to help. There's no reason to be rude about it."

"I think you should leave now if you want to do so in one piece."

"And what are you going to do about it, little one? Blast a few holes in the walls?"

"Show yourself, you coward! Then you'll see how well I can blow holes in things."

"Tempting… but I don't think so." The voice seemed to be right in his ear now. Dean froze, his heart hammering away a mile a minute, making it hard to hear the voice as his blood pounded in his ears. "Hey, Dean? How's your head now?"

An ice cold hand brushed lightly against his forehead, making him shiver and his stomach flip. Pain blared suddenly through his skull and a few random images burst in front of his eyes in quick succession. They were moving too fast for him to make any sense of them though.

"Ah!" Dean squeezed his eyes shut and curled forward instantly, trying to combat the pain, then remembered there was something in the room and forced his eyes open again. The pain blurred his vision, but he could have sworn there was a dark figure standing right in front of him. He raised the gun but before he could get a shot off it went sailing across the room.

"You won't be needing that, my boy. You shouldn't be playing with daddy's guns anyway." The demon gripped Dean's chin and tilted his head back so that they were eye to eye, strictly speaking. Dean still couldn't see very well past the haze and random images, but he could have sworn the creature's eyes were tinted yellow. Why did that seem familiar…?

Before he could put more effort into figuring it out, the demon leaned forward and whispered darkly into his ear. "You're going to lose everything you love, Dean, and then you're gonna go to hell. Why not just skip the pain of it and join me? Think about it, alright? I'll check in on ya real soon. Until then, take care of that headache, huh?"

The creature patted him harshly on the cheek and released his chin. Dean let his head fall back against the mattress for a second, trying to catch his breath and dominate his pain. When he lifted his head again, the creature was gone. _Sammy… Dad… _Dean pushed himself off the bed and began stumbling towards the door. Every step he took, his vision grew darker and began to tunnel. He blinked harshly a few times, but it didn't seem to be helping. The last thing he remembered was the world tilting sideways and falling onto his knees. After that, just darkness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What's going on? Where's Dean? You're scaring me, dad."

"I don't have time to explain! Stay on my six! Are you armed?"

"Armed? For what? I thought we were getting ready to take off? Now you've gone and found another hunt?!"

"Keep your voice down! Let's move, now!"

"Yes, sir," Sam grumbled, falling in line if only to find out what his dad was ranting about.

John burst back into the room to find Dean sprawled unconscious on the floor, halfway between the bed and the now open door. The gun was on the other side of the room.

"Damn it… Dean?!"

"What the… Dad? What's wrong with him? What happened?"

"It found us again…" John whispered to himself, not loud enough for Sam to hear. Sam just continued to stare at him in confusion. "Please let my son be okay…" he begged any power that would listen.

TBC

You guys have all been so patient with me, I thought you earned another update! Thanks for all the responses so far!! Reviews? Suggestions? Requests? Thanks!!


	3. Wake Up Call

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

"Dean? Wake up. Please, wake up. Open your eyes, son…" John was terrified of what the demon might have done to his poor boy. Hadn't they suffered enough at its hands?

"Dad, it's been over an hour. What's wrong with him? Did… Did you hurt him again?" The last bit came out as a soft plea with an underlying anger that was ready to burst to the surface depending on his father's answer. John was taken aback at the question, having forgotten that he was the only one to have seen the demon this time as far as he knew. If Dean had seen it, they wouldn't know until he woke up.

"What? NO! Damn it, Sam, I swore I would never lay a finger on him again! I'm a man of my word!"

"Since when?! I've seen your track record, dad, and it isn't very encouraging!"

"When have I…?!"

"You swore you wouldn't hurt him again before, and you knocked him to the ground!"

"That was a mistake! I wasn't…"

"You swore you'd protect us, and look what happened!"

"Sam, I…"

"You swore you'd find the thing that killed mom and destroy it! How's that workin' for you so far?!"

"Enough! We don't have time for this! Dean is in trouble. Can't you see that?"

"I can always see it, dad. You're the one blinded to it." The neutral acceptance in his voice was more painful to John than the words themselves. He wished his boy had shouted them at him. At least then he could chalk it up to the release of bottled anger. "It shouldn't have to take something this big to open your eyes to his pain."

John shook his head, acknowledging every word in defeat. He knew he should apologize for letting his children down, but instead all he could say was, "When did you get so smart, Sammy?"

"I learned it from Dean. You don't give him enough credit, dad."

John wanted to respond. He wanted to let both of his boys know how much they meant to him and that they were his whole world. He wanted them to know how proud he was of them and all their accomplishments. Not many kids their age could handle knowing about the dark side of the world let alone survive it when all of hell seemed to be gunning for them. But now was not the time or place. Now he needed to focus on getting his sons safe.

"Grab his feet, Sam. We've gotta move out."

Sam's face fell instantly and John wanted to pull him into a tight hug and never let him go. He wished he could put both his sons into impenetrable bubbles and seal them away from pain and danger. He wished he could be teaching them how to throw a baseball or helping them do their homework. But all his boys needed him for now was protection, and he'd be damned if he let them down again.

Moving silently, they carried Dean outside and loaded him into the back of the car.

"Keep an eye on him." Sam slid in next to his brother and pulled Dean towards him for support.

"Where are we going?"

"Back."

For once in his life, Sam was stunned into silence.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Prescott glanced from the clock to the new boy in the back of her class. He kept his head down, letting his somewhat long bangs conceal his eyes. His hair reminded her a lot of Sam's. He only spoke when spoken to, and when she tested him with random questions concerning the material, he was quick to answer and did so intelligently. In fact, he never got an answer wrong. His clothes were a bit baggy and torn, looking very much second hand, and he sat stiffly in his seat. She wasn't sure if this was because he also had a military background in defense, or because he was concealing wounds that caused him pain when he slouched or moved.

Either way, she couldn't let Ethan walk out of her class without approaching him with her concerns. The bell rang, signaling the end of class. She watched as he stood slowly, grimaced, then gathered his books and headed for the door.

"Ethan? Ethan Collins?"

"Yeah?" He paused in the doorway.

"May I speak with you a moment?"

"Look, I'll catch up, I promise. I've been through a bunch of different schools so I'm used to the extra work."

"No, it's not that. I have no doubt in my mind that you're smart enough to keep up."

He glanced at her warily before raking his eyes around the room as though expecting to be ambushed from behind. Finding no threats, his eyes returned to hers for an explanation which she promptly provided.

"I… I noticed you seemed to be in a bit of pain today. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Mind if I ask what happened?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Well if that answer didn't sound familiar, she didn't know what did. This boy was practically a replica of Dean as far as personality was concerned. It also helped to solidify the fact that this boy must come from a "hunter" background. She smiled warmly.

"Try me."

"Fine. You see, I was down by the lake the other day and I saw this shiny rock in the water, so I went in to get it, and I was attacked by this big creature known as a water horse. It knocked me around a bit, then we made friends and I rode on its back around the lake before heading home for supper."

Mrs. Prescott opened and closed her mouth a few times, at a complete loss for words.

See? Told ya you wouldn't believe me." With that, he turned to walk away. He wasn't going to escape that easily. Her hand snagged forward and gently latched onto his upper arm. A small gasp slipped through his lips and he whirled around, breaking her hold, but didn't continue his retreat. She scrambled for something to say to him before he tried to leave again.

She wasn't sure what to make of his story. She was reasonably convinced he had made it all up, but you never know when it comes to the supernatural. After all, last week she would have said there were no such things as demons. She'd have to check with John Winchester to find out if water horses really did exist. She figured the best way out of having to respond to his story now was to slightly change the topic.

"I think you should come with me to visit Mrs. Noble. She's the guidance counselor here and I think she could…"

"I'm not crazy."

"I never said you were. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Please? It won't take long, and I'm sure she'll want to meet you anyway to make sure you're handling your transfer well. She likes to meet all the students at least once. What could it hurt?"

"I have another class to get to, and I'm pretty far enough behind already. I should get going."

"What's one more class then? I'll contact your teacher and let him know. Come on. Her office is just this way…"

She waved for him to follow her and headed off down the corridor. He sighed, then began to follow resignedly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It didn't take long for the Winchesters to arrive back in town and find another cheap motel. He parked and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

"Singer."

"Bobby?"

"John? What's goin' on? How's Dean feelin'?"

"Took a turn for the worse I'm afraid. Where are you?"

"I'm on my way to that school of yours. I told you I was gonna look into it. Where are you boys headed? And what do you mean he took a turn for the worse?"

"We're back in town too. At this point here's as safe as anywhere else. I want to see what this hunter kid knows and if his father's after the same thing we are." He was careful not to give too much away having Sammy sitting right behind him. He had to be very careful not to say or do anything that could cause a memory to trigger and break the spell of the memory eraser. "And uh… We had a visitor a little while ago. It did somethin' to Dean and he hasn't woken up since."

"What motel are you stayin' at? I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Bobby, you don't have to…"

"I know that, John, but I want to. Maybe there's somethin' I can do to help."

"Thanks, man."

"'s what I'm here for."

John gave him the directions, then hung up feeling better knowing his friend was only minutes away from them.

Bobby, who was just about to pull into the school parking lot pulled a quick u-turn and head back in the opposite direction at twice the speed. Nobody hurt his boys and got away with it. Nobody and nothing. He wasn't about to make an exception now.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Bobby rapped his knuckles hard against the motel room door. He made sure to stand in front of the peep hole, knowing John would check first and if he didn't see anything, he'd come out armed. No need to be taking unnecessary risks these days.

A few seconds passed, then he heard the slide and metallic click of the dead bolt unlocking and the door was opened. He nodded at the man behind it as he entered.

"John."

"Hey, Bobby. Thanks for comin'. I'm not sure what to do at this point."

Bobby's eyes fell instantly on the still body on top of the farthest bed. There was already a ring of salt surrounding the bed and a few protection symbols carved into the wood.

"Where's Sam?"

"In the bathroom."

Taking a look around, Bobby noticed the door and windows were also lined for safety.

"That thing really spooked ya, huh?"

"I don't think I've ever been that scared before. I was convinced it was goin' after Sammy… I didn't even think…"

"We all thought he wanted Sam. I don't know what his new obsession is with Dean, but I certainly don't like it."

John scoffed his obvious agreement.

"Dean told me the demon did something to Sam when he was six months old."

Bobby raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought Dean wasn't supposed to remember that day?"

"He wasn't, but somehow he broke the spell the potion had on him and remembered everything. He begged me not to do it to him this time, but I made him do it for my own selfish reasons." The self-recrimination was evident in his voice.

"You panicked, John. I'm not sayin' I agree with your decision, but I'd be a fool if I told you I haven't made choices just as stupid in my time."

"I don't know what to do anymore. Hell, I don't think I ever really did. What if Dean remembers this time too? How could I possibly explain it all to him?"

"I think we've got more important things to worry about right now, don't you? For instance, gettin' him to wake up."

TBC

What do you think so far? Suggestions for future chapters? Feelings about Ethan?


	4. Everything is Blurry

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Both men moved over to the bed. As John stroked his thumb over the fringe of Dean's spiked bangs, he noticed Dean's eyes were shifting rapidly under their lids.

"That can't be a good thing…"

John was so focused on Dean that he hadn't heard his youngest exit the bathroom and approach the bed.

"That just means he's in REM sleep."

John jumped and looked over his shoulder. "Jeez, Sammy… Don't sneak up on your old man like that."

"I thought nothin' could get the drop on you, dad? Losing your touch?" Sam smirked, lessening the sting of the words. John quickly changed the subject and Bobby tried his hardest not to burst out laughing at the dig.

"What do you mean by REM sleep?" The intelligence of this kid was ridiculous sometimes.

"It's a sleep stage. Number five I believe… Stands for rapid eye movement. It just means he's in a dream state where his mind is in overdrive but his body is paralyzed and can't respond to his fight or flight instincts. Which I'm sure is killin' him right now…"

John swallowed hard at those words. God, he hoped it wasn't killing his boy. Normal kids had nightmares about getting an F on a hard test or because they watched the latest horror movie for a thrill. But to the average Joe, those movie creatures weren't real. To the Winchesters, practically all of them were. He just hoped the demon wasn't influencing Dean's dreams.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Back at the school, Mrs. Prescott led a wary Ethan into the guidance office. After telling him to take a seat in the waiting area, she spoke quickly and quietly with Helen. This was a tricky situation. Helen did not know anything about the supernatural. She hadn't been there when Mrs. Prescott had been attacked with the boys in her custody. As far as she knew, the Winchester boys had fallen into a glass table and that was that.

However, Mrs. Prescott did not have the authority or medical experience to examine the boy. She toyed with the idea of bringing him straight to her husband who had recently been hired as the new doctor at the school, but decided she should go through Helen first to make things official. Her husband would be obligated to inform the counselor of the boy's injuries anyway.

Nurse Roderick, the woman who had evaluated Dean's injuries not so long ago, had been put on probation for sedating him and conducting his exam in an unconventional manor. Though she had meant well, she had over-stepped her boundaries and was paying for it now.

Mrs. Prescott had to handle this situation delicately to avoid making the same mistakes. She told Helen that she would like "the doctor" to examine the boy for possible abuse, but requested to be in the room during the exam. That way, she could relay the findings to the Winchesters and Bobby and see if Ethan really was the son of a hunter or not. Her husband, who also knew about the supernatural, would know better not to mention _those_ kinds of injuries to Helen. He would have to invent a more plausible excuse.

When it was settled that she could be present during the exam, the two women approached Ethan who refused to meet either of their eyes. That was probably the one main difference between him and the Winchester boys. Sam stood out due to his intelligence, and Dean for his rebellious and cocky nature. This boy seemed to want to disappear all together and remain invisible. She supposed this was an acceptable front when it came to being a "hunter." Helen spoke first.

"Ethan, hunny, I'd like you to come with us for a moment."

"What for?" Still, his eyes remained glued to the rug. He knew damn well what this was about. He just wanted to stall as much as possible.

"I'd like to have the school doctor take a look at your injuries. Maybe there is something we can do to help."

"I don't need any help."

"Boy have I heard that before… Come on. It won't take long, I promise."

"And I've heard _that _before." He looked annoyed, but stood to follow them anyway. Neither woman understood what he meant by his words, but they doubted they were supposed to.

On their way to the back room, Helen asked Ethan to explain how he got hurt. Mrs. Prescott listened intently to the boy's water horse story again, waiting for the slightest detail to be off but his second account was practically verbatim to the first one. Though Mrs. Prescott was beginning to believe his tale, Helen had plenty of doubts. She guided him into the room with a hand on his shoulder before addressing him.

"I've heard a lot of stories in my day, hun, but that one takes the cake." She gently pressed down on his shoulder, indicating she wanted him to take a seat on the small wooden chair behind him. He did so, but stayed on the very edge of it so his throbbing back wouldn't connect with anything. Helen leaned down conspiratorially, placing her hands on the arm rests and making him draw back further into the seat to keep her out of his personal space. To Mrs. Prescott, it looked a lot like an interrogation.

"What _really_ happened, Ethan? How did you get hurt?"

Mrs. Prescott quickly added her own question to the list. "Was it someone…" she paused, carefully considering her next words, then continued, "or some_thing_ that hurt you?"

Ethan cocked an eyebrow at that one as he glanced over Helen's shoulder at Mrs. Prescott, then shrugged nonchalantly. "Depends on the occasion, I guess."

"You mean you get injured like this often?" Helen's concern was increasing by the minute.

"Look, I know you're just tryin' to do your job, but there's nothin' you can do for me so you're just wasting your time."

Mrs. Prescott stepped forward until she was right next to Helen.

"Don't be so sure about that."

Confusion crossed the boy's face but before he could ask what she had meant, the door opened and Mr. Prescott walked in, having been paged by Helen's secretary moments before. Both women backed off Ethan immediately, giving the doc room to work. Ethan was grateful he had more breathing room, but swallowed loud enough for all three adults to hear when he realized why. It was going to be extremely difficult to hide his injuries now, and he wasn't allowed to let anyone see them.

Mr. Prescott smiled warmly at him, hoping to sooth his fears. He walked up to the boy and held out his hand in a friendly gesture. "Hey. I'm doctor Prescott, but you can call me Roger if you like."

Ethan stared at his hand for a few moments before deciding it was safe and shaking it. "Ethan."

"Nice to meet you, Ethan. Now, what seems to be the trouble?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Bobby, can you wake him up? Do you know any incantations that might help?"

"Can't say that I do off the top of my head, but I've got somethin' better."

John shot him a questioning glance which Bobby ignored. Instead, he pulled a small capsule from his pocket and presented it to John.

"Smelling salts? Seriously? You think that'll work on somethin' like this?"

"No harm in tryin', right?"

"Guess not." John stood back to give Bobby room who immediately cracked the capsule and held it under Dean's nose. A few tense moments went by with no reaction from Dean, but then the boy began to cough and his eyes welled with tears. His eyes flew open and he immediately tried to sit up, but Bobby's strong hands kept him pinned to the mattress so he wouldn't cause himself further injury.

Instead, Dean compromised by pressing the heel of his right hand just above his right eyebrow and hissing through his teeth. He clamped his eyes shut once again as the familiar throb continued through his skull.

"Dean? You back with us?" John tried.

Dean grunted his assent but otherwise remained unresponsive. He was afraid if he moved anymore he'd throw up again. It was embarrassing enough in front of his father, but he'd be mortified if it happened in front of Bobby.

"Can you open yer eyes, kid?" Bobby questioned.

Dean gave it a valiant effort, but the overhead light in the room was doing its best to instigate another migraine. He tried to tell Bobby no, but only a groan slipped through his clenched teeth.

"Sammy, kill the lights," John ordered. Sam chose not to argue for his brother's sake and did as he was told for which his dad was grateful, as was Dean.

"That better, bro?" Sam practically whispered when he returned to his brother's side.

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean whispered back, relieved that it would be harder for his family to see his pain in the dark.

"Dean, I'm gonna help you open yer eyes very slowly, alright?" Bobby drawled. "Give them the chance to adapt so you don't strain 'em too much."

Dean nodded, keeping his eyes shut, but doing his best to relax the tension he had been keeping on them. He jolted slightly when Bobby's cool and calloused fingers made contact with his eye lids.

"Nice and easy now… Let me do all the work. Just relax your eyes." Bobby waited patiently for Dean to do as he asked, then began to slowly raise his lids until they were fully opened. There was enough light spilling over from the windows that Dean could see everything in the room, or at least he would have been able to had his vision not been so blurred.

"Can you see, Dean?" John asked anxiously as he watched his son's eyes continue to blink and try to focus.

"Everythin's blurry…" he mumbled, feeling like he hadn't slept in ages even though he had the distinct impression he had been unconscious for a while. He couldn't remember exactly what happened before he hit the ground, but there were a lot of strange images he could still see clearly in his mind that had revealed themselves to him in his dreams. He wasn't sure what they meant just yet, but he had a feeling they were important.

"It'll pass. Just give it a second. You had us scared there, kid." Bobby wiped a hand across his sweaty brow before resituating his tattered baseball cap on his head.

"Sorry. I… I dunno what happened…" Dean tried to sit up again, feeling awkward having everyone standing around him, and this time Bobby allowed it but kept a supportive hand on his back to help him up. Dean kept a hand to his head to prevent it from falling off as the room slowly righted itself.

"You were attacked by something, Dean," Sam quickly supplied.

"Attacked? By what?" Dean directed this question at his father who had been expecting it and thought up a lie quickly.

"Not sure exactly. Probably some kind of spirit."

"How'd it get past the salt?"

Once again, John had failed to remember Sam's intelligence.

"I… It… Dean must have left the circle to find us. That would explain how we found him halfway to the door."

Sam nodded, accepting John's web of lies, but something was nagging at the back of Dean's mind. He had a feeling it hadn't gone down like that at all. The only problem was he wasn't really sure what had happened. He would keep his doubts to himself for now. Bobby exchanged a meaningful look with John. There was no doubt in his eyes as to who the "late night visitor" was.

TBC

Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there! Please review!


	5. Paternal Instincts

I have someone I'd like you to talk to, hun

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

"Nice to meet you, Ethan. Now, what seems to be the trouble?"

"Bad hair day."

"I see. Have you tried hair gel? I've heard it works wonders."

Ethan looked confused. Usually his retorts brought on angered reactions, but this guy was humoring him. Did he really look as bad as he felt, or was this guy just different from the rest? He decided he would see how far he could really push him. They all had limits. It was part of being an adult.

"Nah, that just makes it worse. Blood tends to matte it down a hell of a lot better."

He watched the man for a reaction, but didn't get the one he was expecting. He did get the reaction from Helen though who put a hand to her mouth in horror. It was too easy sometimes…

"Yes, it does tend to have that affect. Though I'd suggest keeping your blood _inside_ your body. Your hair can just fend for itself. What do you say, Champ? Should we get this over with?"

Ethan had to admit he was starting to like this guy.

"Whatever you say, doc."

Mr. Prescott rejoiced inside for playing the right cards with the kid, but he didn't fail to hear the underlying boredom in the boy's words as though he had gone through this many times before.

"Alright, hop on up." Roger patted the top of the table and waited patiently for Ethan to rise shakily to his feet and do as he was asked. "Let's have a look, shall we? Can you slide your shirt off or do you need some help?"

"Pretty sure I can handle it. Been dressin' and undressin' myself for a few years now."

"I swear the progress of human kind still amazes me…" Roger retorted.

Ethan snorted as he slowly worked the shirt off over his head. When he dropped it to the floor, silence fell over the room. He was screwed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How's the vision doin'?" Bobby questioned Dean, moving away from the dangerous subject of the demon. "How many fingers am I holdin' up?"

Dean had to squint but he got the hand relatively in focus before answering. "Three."

"And the headache?"

"Lingering but manageable."

"You sure you don't remember anythin' from when you passed out?"

Dean considered mentioning the images he could remember but decided to keep them to himself until he could make sense of them. He couldn't bear to make his father or brother look any more concerned than they already did by mentioning he was seeing things.

"No, nothin'. Sorry."

"It's alright, kiddo. You just focus on gettin' better. I'm gonna swing by the school now that you're outta the woods."

"The school? What for?"

Oops. Let the cat out of the bag on that one. He looked to John for support but he just shrugged as if to say they were going to find out soon enough anyway.

"Sam's teacher, Mrs. Prescott, called me a while ago sayin' a new kid has transferred into the school and seems to be injured."

"What's that got to do with us?" Dean interrupted.

"She uh… She thinks he might be a hunter's kid."

Dean perked up at the news, but Sam looked downright pissed. Luckily, his anger seemed to be concentrated towards his father instead of Bobby. He turned angrily to John. "So… what? You're willing to help out this kid we know nothing about? Seems awful charitable. There's gotta be a catch, so out with it. What do you want from him?"

John wanted to argue that there didn't need to be a catch for him to help the boy, but he couldn't do it knowing there certainly was a catch. Sam didn't need to know about it though. Not yet.

"It's just a favor, Sam. Maybe you boys could meet a hunter your age and hit it off. You never know."

"You're trying to get us a play date? Seriously?"

"Sam…" Dean warned. Now was really not the time to be picking yet another fight.

"You don't see anything wrong with this, Dean? He's using the kid!"

"For what exactly?" Dean tested.

"I dunno, but there's no other explanation! He was all gung-ho about getting you out of this town, and now we're supposed to stay and make friends? What changed your mind, dad? What's so special about this kid?"

"Only one way to find out, don'tcha think? In fact, why don't you go with Bobby, Sam?"

"What? No! I'm not leaving you here with Dean alone!"

"Sam! I don't need your supervision! Dad and I'll be fine."

"Maybe I don't want to meet this kid. You guys are the ones always saying don't get attached to anyone cause we're gonna leave in a few days. Why would I even bother?"

"I'll go."

"What?! Dean, no! You were unconscious a few minutes ago! You shouldn't even leave the bed…"

"Sam, I've already got a parent, okay? Chill, dude. I'm alright, and I'm curious. I want to meet this kid. Bet he's got some great stories…"

"If you're sure you're up to it, kiddo…"

"Dad, you can't be serious!"

"That's enough, Sam! If you don't want to go, then stay here with me. Dean's old enough to make his own decisions and if he says he's alright to go, then he's alright to go."

"Fine! Whatever! But if he comes back hurt in any way, it'll be _your _fault." Sam stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him, leaving the rest of the room stunned.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ethan jolted forward as the doctor's cold fingers brushed lightly over his back. Roger put a stilling hand on his shoulder, all humor forgotten. "Ethan, what happened?"

He had been nervous before, but the change in the atmosphere made him downright scared and queasy. His dad was going to kill him for getting caught. _Please don't call home…No one is supposed to know…_

"Son?" Mr. Prescott tried again, breaking Ethan out of his panicked thoughts.

"What?" He craned his neck slightly, trying to see the doc standing behind him so he could block out the horrified women in front of him.

"What happened?"

"I gotta explain this all again? I already told _them_! I was attacked by a water horse."

"Yeah? This water horse of yours have a drinking problem?"

"It lives in the water, so take that any way you want. I suppose it drinks pretty often."

Ethan's back looked like a horrible replica of a Jackson Pollock painting. It was scattered with scars of varying lengths and depths, as well as more recent bruises and lacerations. The colors ranged from deep red to purples and blues. As the doc circled around to the front of the table, he realized that they didn't end with his back, but continued all the way around his sides, following his ribs, to his chest and abdomen. The boy was a walking disaster.

Mr. Prescott continued to circle until he was behind Ethan again, then began testing the injuries by applying pressure around the worst of the wounds. Ethan remained silent and gritted his teeth until a particularly harsh throb resonated from his back, making him arch backward and jerk forward in one fluid motion to escape the prodding.

"Sorry, son. Hun, could you get my medical bag for me? This is gonna take a little longer than I expected."

Mrs. Prescott just nodded and stepped quietly from the room. Where were these boys coming from? She didn't think it could get much worse than the Winchesters, but Ethan was giving them a run for their money.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After a few seconds, Dean shook himself out of his stupor and made a move towards the bathroom door, always the concerned big brother and wanting to console his younger sibling.

"Leave him, Dean. He'll come out when he's ready," John sighed.

Dean was still struggling with the decision, so Bobby made it easier for him. "Come on, kid. Let's go see what this Ethan guy has to offer." He reached out and patted Dean on the shoulder before gently steering him towards the door. He glanced back over his shoulder as Dean headed out to the car. "I'll take good care of him, John. If I suspect any trouble or he starts to deteriorate on me, I'll bring him straight home."

"Thanks, Bobby."

"Now _you _take care of your youngest. He's only got Dean's best interest at heart. You know that."

"So do I, Bobby. I'd do anything to keep him safe. That goes for both of my boys."

"We all would, John. We'll be back soon."

With that, he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

Dean was already in the truck, staring silently down at his lap. Bobby pulled his own door shut, then patted Dean's knee. "Yer daddy loves you boys more than anythin' else, you know that right?"

"Yes, sir."

"He'll flail me alive if you look any worse than you do now when I bring you back, so you tell me if you start feelin' like crap again, alright?"

"Yes, sir." A smirk touched Dean's lips.

"Okay. Let's go make a friend."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

John listened to Bobby's truck start up and pull away. He found himself wanting to be anywhere else but here with a pissed off kid. He sighed again. One of them had to apologize or the fight would go on forever. They were both too stubborn to let it go.

He rose from the bed and gently knocked on the bathroom door.

"Go away."

"Sam, look… I'm sorry, okay? I know you can't understand what's going on right now, but I need you to trust me on this. Dean's gonna be okay. We'll figure out this kid's story, then we'll put this town in our rearview mirror, alright?"

He waited anxiously for a response. He relaxed as he heard the distinct CLICK of the lock snapping undone. He eased the door open to find Sam sitting on the floor against the rusty tub. He had his knees drawn to his chest and his arms wrapped around them.

"You alright, Sammy?"

He could see the wet trails where tears had been coursing down his youngest's face and his concern rose.

"I was so scared, dad…" The words were barely above a whisper, but John's sensitive hearing caught them and made his heart jump into his throat. "I mean… He was just lying there, outside of the protective circle, and he wasn't moving, and…" Sam's stammering turned suddenly into painful sobs that he couldn't control.

"Hey, hey, hey… Come here, kiddo." He lowered himself to the floor beside his son and pulled Sam into his arms. He rocked them both gently and kissed him on the head. He had almost forgotten what it was like to be a normal father instead of a drill sergeant. Sometimes he forgot that his boys were still boys, with all the same insecurities and fears. He was glad his paternal instincts hadn't abandoned him after all these years. "I was scared too, Sam. It's a father's worst nightmare, finding one of his children like that…"

John's eyes were misting over now too, but he fought to hold the tears back.

"I…I don't know what I'd d-do without him." It was a simple statement, but had all the heart in the world behind it.

"Don't you be worryin' about that just yet. He's not goin' anywhere."

"P-promise?"

"Cross my heart."

He continued to rock his son until long after his sobs subsided.

TBC

Major chick flick moment there… but I had to do it! Suggestions? Reviews?


	6. That's What Big Brothers Do

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Bobby and Dean checked in at the office and received "visitor" passes, then headed towards the guidance office. Bobby couldn't help but notice Dean's steps slowing the closer they got. Not a good sign. Dean wasn't supposed to remember having been to this office. _They're not gonna try to take you away this time, Dean. I promise._

Short flashes of random images kept flashing by Dean's eyes. He recognized them from his dream, but couldn't figure out what they meant.

"You alright, kid?"

Dean put on his tough-guy façade instantly, embarrassed that he had been caught. "Oh, yeah... I'm fine." He was confused by his trepidation. He had never been to the guidance office for anything besides a few scoldings for being late to class. Why was he so nervous?

"Uh huh." Bobby slowed his steps as well until Dean was by his side again. Then he threw an arm around his shoulders.

Just as Bobby was reaching for the doorknob, he heard his name being called from down the hall. He turned to find Mrs. Prescott coming towards them with a bag in her hand.

"Mrs. Prescott," he greeted. "We just came by to check on the boy. How's he doin'?"

"Not very well." She realized Dean was with him as well and forced a smile onto her face. "Hey, Dean. You're looking much better."

Bobby cleared his throat loudly and Mrs. Prescott remembered that John had erased Dean's recent past. A few more flashes of memory assaulted Dean. He saw blood dripping from a cut on Mrs. Prescott's face and had the distinct impression that it was his fault. At the same time, he couldn't remember having ever met this woman before. He shook his head and glanced back up at her. He noticed the fading scar on her face. "You too."

The confusion was evident in his eyes. She exchanged a surprised look with Bobby who tightened his grip ever so slightly around the boy's shoulders, making it clear that any attempts to check him over again or separate the two of them were not going to be taken lightly. She nodded subtly in acknowledgement and quickly turned the conversation back onto Ethan.

"Roger has just begun his exam on Ethan. Bobby, he's a mess. There's bruising, cuts, and scars everywhere." Her eyes darted to Dean again who immediately dropped his gaze to the ground, not wanting to see the pity in her eyes concerning their particular way of living. Then he realized how stupid that was because she didn't know anything about their living, did she?

Bobby grimaced at the visual of Ethan's injuries. "Did he say what did it to 'im?"

"He said it was a water horse." She chuckled slightly at the fact she had almost fallen for the ploy. Those things were only legends after all.

"I'll tell ya one thing, that boy's got quite the imagination."

"I knew water horses couldn't _possibly_ be real. Just the idea is…"

"Oh it's real all right. But you won't be seein' it around here. Any idea where the boy transferred from?"

"S-somewhere in Connecticut I believe." Mrs. Prescott seemed to have recovered extremely well after the kind of shock she had just received. Just another one to add to the long list lately.

"Yeah, there's no way that's what did it. Doesn't mean it wasn't somethin' supernatural though."

"Why don't you guys come on in to the waiting room. I'll give Roger his bag so he can patch Ethan up, and then I'll have them come out here to meet you two. Sound good?"

"Works for us." Bobby led Dean over to a set of chairs across from Helen's office, but Dean froze and dug in his heels, bringing them both to a stop. "Dean? What's wrong?"

"Not there, Bobby, okay? We can sit anywhere else." Dean couldn't explain it, but he had a feeling that something bad had happened there not too long ago. He could see himself in extreme pain and sitting next to his brother who was trying to comfort him. The images were starting to make his head hurt again. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping the images would stop. He felt Bobby's strong hand wrap around his upper arm to steady him.

"Dean? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Why don't you go back out to the truck and I'll meet you there in a…"

"No, Bobby. It's okay. I don't know what came over me. That was weird…"

Bobby could tell Dean was starting to break through the memory barriers his dad had placed on him. John was going to be pissed.

Dean wouldn't admit it, but he was scared by this change of events. He really must have gotten knocked around hard by that Wendigo. The strangest part was that every time these images flooded his vision, the ache deep within him seemed to lessen slightly. Maybe if he just focused a bit more, he could break through completely and the void would be gone. He took a seat next to Bobby who tried to subtly stretch his arm out and laid it on the back of Dean's chair. Dean wasn't fooled by the gesture. He knew Bobby wasn't trying to get comfortable. He was keeping Dean protected at all costs. Dean was having none of it.

"Did you just pull the move on me?"

"The what?"

"The move! You know, boy and girl at a movie… Boy fakes a stretch so he can put his arm around the girl… The move!"

"I did _not _just pull the move on you. I was merely getting comfortable. We might be here a while."

"Sorry, Bobby, but you're not my type."

"Cute. You know, most _girls_ aren't as annoying as you?"

"Like you would know."

"Brat."

"You know you love me."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mrs. Prescott slid back into the exam room and handed over her husband's medical bag. Roger immediately shifted through it, pulling out the items he would need. Then he began the slow and painstaking process of patching the boy back up.

He started with the deeper wounds, some of which looked infected.

"How long ago did this happen?"

"Couple days."

"And you never got them checked?"

"Does it look like I did?"

"Why not?"

"These aren't the type of injuries you parade around town, you know?"

"They aren't the kind you just ignore either. It looks like three of these deeper cuts are infected. I've gotta clean them out, but it's not going to be fun."

"Story of my life. Just do what you have to do so I can go, alright?"

He drained the infected areas with a few well placed slices from his scalpel, then cleaned each wound with alcohol. To the boy's credit, he did little more than flinch. _Apparently he's got a high tolerance for pain. Can't blame him after seeing his injuries…_

Roger moved slowly around Ethan, making sure not to miss anything important. When he made it back to where he started he picked up the roll of gauze and began wrapping the wounds and the boy's ribs.

"That feel a little better?"

"Loads. Can I go now?"

"That depends. Did we cover everything, or is there something I missed?"

"Nope. You did an excellent job, doc. I think I'm ready to go out and stop crime now. Or maybe take on another water horse. You think?"

"Take these pills for the pain, and if they wear off before the end of the day, you come see me again, understand?"

"Looking forward to it. So… Can I put my shirt back on now or are you guys enjoying the view?"

"Go ahead and get dressed. We'll wait for you in the other room."

At the door, Mrs. Prescott turned back to Ethan who had just slid off the table and was picking up his shirt from the floor.

"Oh, I have someone I'd like you to talk to, Ethan. I think you two might have a few things in common."

"Really? Such as?"

"Just give him a chance. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough."

Ethan glanced at his watch. It was either talk to this other person or go to geometry class. He sighed heavily. "Not like I've got anything better to do. Who is it?"

"His name is Dean Winchester. He went to school here for a while."

"Lucky him. You people sure know how to make a guy feel welcome around here."

As the three adults exited the exam room, Dean got a glimpse of what was behind the door and felt his insides go cold. He knew that room, but he wasn't sure why. He knew he hated it and never wanted to go near it again, but the feelings seemed unfounded. _Just talk to the kid and get back to dad and Sammy…_

Bobby could tell Dean was getting antsy, and he honestly couldn't blame him. It was too much to hope that he hadn't remembered anything yet, but the best he could do at this point was get Dean away from this office before he remembered everything.

"Hey, Dean? When Ethan comes out, why don't you boys take a walk and get to know each other? I've gotta talk with this fine staff."

"Sure. No problem." Dean sighed inwardly with relief. He needed to get away from this room, and any excuse he could get would be fine with him. Seconds later, Ethan appeared fully dressed again.

"Ah, Ethan. This is Bobby and Dean," Mrs. Prescott introduced. Helen froze when her eyes landed on Dean, but otherwise did not comment or make it obvious that she knew him. Bobby and Dean nodded in greeting.

"I was just suggesting you boys take a walk and have a chat… That is, if it's alright with you?" Bobby asked Helen and the Prescotts.

"That's perfectly fine. Don't wander too long, and do not leave the building, you hear me?" Helen responded. Then Dean and Ethan were out the door.

"Jesus… I never thought they'd let me outta there. Thanks for the rescue by the way. Dean, right?"

Dean nodded again, but otherwise stayed silent. This seemed to intrigue Ethan more.

"So what's your story? I hear we've got a lot in common."

"You first."

"Not much to tell. Just transferred in, and have regretted every second of it, but you've gone here too so you know what I'm talkin' about."

"All too well, actually."

"Huh. Great, well I guess we've bonded, right? Mission accomplished."

"You're kind of antisocial, you know that?" Dean smirked as Ethan gave him a somewhat surprised look.

"Well if we have as much in common as I'm told we do, you'll understand why."

The smirk fell away almost instantly. He knew _exactly _how the kid felt. It was too risky getting to know people well. If you let them into your life, there's a good chance they'll leave when they find out the truth, or the truth will get them killed. To be a hunter was to be alone.

"Look, man, I know what you're goin' through. I've been there too."

"Really? How long?"

"Since I was four."

"Shit. Tough break, huh?"

"Eh. Didn't take me too long to get used to it, ya know?"

"Did you ever tell anyone?"

"Hell no. I knew they wouldn't understand. Not many people have the same childhood we had."

"Ha. Yeah, no kiddin'. I'm guessing it was your dad?"

"Yeah, it started with him and he's been on our asses ever since to keep us in line." Instantly, memories of him and Sam running through their dad's training exercises came to mind. A fond smile lit up his face when he recalled turning the exercises into games so Sam wouldn't complain as much. "I know it's not the easiest lifestyle, but sometimes we gotta take a few hits to protect others."

"Us? We? What, you got a little sister or somethin'?"

Dean grinned even more. "Basically."

This forced a small chuckle out of Ethan. "Little brother then. Is he the one you have to protect?"

"I try."

"I've got a little sister. Three year difference. Your dad ever lay a hand on him?"

"Huh? No! He'd never…"

"So you're his punching bag instead? Same goes with me. I'd never let my dad touch my little sister. Is your dad a mean drunk, or just plain mean?"

"I…"

Dean was startled to a halt. He suddenly realized they weren't talking about the same thing at all and he had no idea how to proceed. He got the kid to open up, but should he lie to him now and risk breaking his trust, or tell the truth and have the kid clam up on him?

"It was a simple question." Ethan felt he had already shared too much with this stranger. He had never shared that much information with anyone else. Instantly, his defensive mechanism kicked in to high gear: _push them away before they push you or worse_. "Are you the only one he goes after, or does your mom get it too?"

Dean was fuming now. They had started out with such an innocent discussion. How had it turned so personal? He had no desire to start spilling his feelings to this kid, or to tell him about their lifestyle now that he realized Ethan was not a hunter at all. He was glad he hadn't spilled the beans already.

"What, sensitive subject? Why's that? She sit there and watch you take it, or did she join in on the fun?"

"She's dead, you son-of-a-bitch."

"Yeah? Your dad do it, or did she off herself?" Even as the words left his mouth, he wished there was some way he could stop them from reaching the other boy. Sometimes his defenses were a bit stronger than he liked. He didn't really want to hurt this kid. He just wanted to make him stop prying like everyone else that has tried to help, giving him false hope just to end up failing him in the end. He couldn't stand that again. He learned from an early age that he was destined to be alone with nothing but his dad's broken belt for company.

As always, it was his mouth that got him into trouble. As soon as he finished his last word, Dean's fist connected with his jaw. He stumbled backward, slightly surprised but mostly in awe.

"Well at least you have the balls to fight back." There was no bite to the words. Only despair and self-disgust.

Suddenly, their entire conversation made sense to Dean. His dad had only hit him once… Well, okay, and pushed him to the ground once too. But in the few seconds after the initial shock had worn off, he had felt just like this boy did now. He felt worthless, like he was his father's greatest disappointment. He felt like he had failed as a son, and he felt alone. Sam hadn't been there at that point, and his dad clearly hated him. At least, in Dean's eyes he did. He had no one else, and it was the worst feeling he had ever experienced, including the terrible emptiness of the void. He couldn't imagine what that must be like to experience that sort of pain and self-hatred for the majority of his life.

No wonder the boy was lashing out and pushing him away. He didn't feel as though he deserved a friend, let alone a stranger's help. Ethan didn't think he was worth a stranger's spit.

Ethan didn't understand why, but he felt terrible for the first time in his life for upsetting this kid. After all, Dean was only trying to help. He would never understand why people even tried. Obviously, none of the attempts had made an ounce of difference. If anything, his dad was angrier and hit harder than he used to. But the pain and understanding in this stranger's eyes seemed to hurt worse than his father's fists did. For the first time in his life, he didn't want to push this person away. Not yet.

He continued their conversation, but brought it onto a more level playing field so as not to provoke the boy anymore than he already had.

"Does your little brother know what you do for him? Does he know what you go through?"

Dean focused on his memories of being hit and what it would be like for Sam to find out. When he did, he suddenly got the feeling Sam had already found out once, and he was pissed. When he realized the boy had thrown out this line of topic as an apology, he willingly accepted it.

"I'm not the type of guy to shout my problems to the world, but he did manage to find out recently. It wasn't pretty."

"Yeah? What happened, if you don't mind me asking…" Ethan made sure not to overstep his boundaries again. He wanted to keep it civil. After all, this may be the first person that has ever truly understood him, and he wasn't ready to be alone again.

"He hasn't looked at our dad the same since."

Ethan nodded, privately wishing his sister had never known about what their father did to him. Sadly, she didn't have many friends and therefore was home most of the time when she wasn't at school. Because of this, she had known just about every time Ethan had been abused. Thankfully, she hadn't seen many of them though. He always told her to hide under her bed and cover her ears until he came to get her. Then he would take care of his own injuries as much as possible to keep them from her view. That's what big brothers do.

TBC

I know this is a very sensitive subject and I tried to handle it with the utmost care. If anyone has a problem with any particular part of this story, please let me know! This ended up being a really long chapter, but I couldn't just break it off in the middle of their discussion! Please let me know what you think! This is my first time handling abuse in a story. Was it believable? Did you see it coming, or did I surprise you with the twist in conversation? Thanks for sticking with me so far!! Shout out to Dani from Romania for her generous review and support! You rock!!


	7. Denial

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

While the boys were out and the others were occupied, Bobby pulled his cell from his pocket. Something about the boy's story was bothering him. He decided to give John a call just to confirm his facts. Plus he wanted to give him an update on the situation. After three rings, a familiar gruff voice picked up.

"Winchester."

"It's me. You ever hear of a water horse around here?"

"A water horse? Come on, Bobby, we took care of that six years ago, remember? That thing isn't supposed to be able to leave the loch now, and there can only be one alive at a time."

"That's what I thought, too."

"Why do you ask?"

"Nothin'. Apparently that was the story that the Ethan kid used to explain his injuries. I just wanted to see if there was any possible truth behind it."

"I suppose it could have been some sort of water demon, but certainly not a water horse. The kid made it up."

"Alright. Thanks, John. That's all I wanted to know."

"How're things goin'? Did you talk to Ethan yet? How's Dean doin'?"

"Dean's fine. He's takin' a walk with Ethan now so they could talk in private. If anyone can get needed information, it's your kid."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dean and Ethan continued the rest of their walk in agreeable silence until they had circled the entire school and found themselves standing in front of the guidance office door again.

Ethan made an exaggerated sweeping motion towards the door. "After you."

"If you insist…" Dean smirked and took two steps towards the door before Ethan's hand shot out and gently turned him back again.

"Listen, man… I'd really appreciate it if you didn't mention any of our discussion to anyone else. Especially not that old nut job, Mrs. Noble."

Dean smirked. He never liked her either… he didn't think. "It stays between us. You know… They're just tryin' to do their jobs. They might be able to help."

"Did they help you?"

"Well no… but…"

"Exactly. We aren't broken toys, Dean. We're people. We can't be _fixed_. And we can only be broken if we give in and let it happen. Life is what it is, and when it gives you lemons…"

"Squirt your dad in the eye with it."

Ethan laughed for the first time that day. Hell, the first time in months. It felt good. And it almost helped him to forget the beating he was going to get when he got home today. Dad didn't tend to like getting phone calls from the school accusing him of abuse, regardless of the fact that it was true. He finally met someone he could tolerate being around, and his dad was going to make him transfer yet again. Just another lemon when all he wanted was a piece of chocolate.

Dean watched as the laughter left Ethan's eyes and the boy became sullen again. He had to say _something_. "Hey, I'm gonna find a way to help you. No matter what it takes. I know it's a lot to ask, but trust in me."

Everyone said that to him, but no one really meant it. He had no reason to believe this kid who couldn't solve his own problems was going to be able to make a difference, but he humored him any way.

"I haven't trusted anyone for a long time, but I'll give it a shot. Just don't do anything stupid and get yourself hurt in the process, deal?"

"Deal." They shook hands and a lot of meaning went into it. Dean's was confident and comforting. It said _I've got your back_. Ethan's was clinging to a small flicker of hope and grasping onto a chance for stability. His was _I've got nothing left to lose, so I'll jump if you jump_.

"Oh, and sorry about what I said earlier. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories, I'm just not used to civil conversation."

"Don't worry about it. I get it. Now come on. They're waitin' for us."

When they were inside the room, Dean went directly over to Bobby. Ethan had the urge to follow, afraid that if he let his new friend out of his sight, he'd never see him again. But Helen and the Prescotts were waiting for him at the other side of the room. He took one last longing look at Dean who smiled encouragingly and tipped his head, motioning to the people waiting for him as if to say _Go on, it's okay._ He nodded back with a small smile of his own, then put up the mask he dawned for adults with authority.

"So what now?"

Mrs. Prescott looked anxious. "How did it go?"

"Dean's a cool kid. Turns out we do have a lot in common. We both like chocolate ice cream and have impeccable taste in clothing." He heard Dean snort from across the room. Apparently he wasn't as soft spoken as he thought. That small sound was enough to egg him on more though, with even more confidence than before. "So am I supposed to take him out to dinner now or somethin'? Or do I have to go to class?"

The Prescotts exchanged slightly confused expressions, clearly wondering if they had misjudged the situation. Maybe Ethan wasn't a hunter after all. Either that, or he just didn't want to admit it in front of them, thinking they knew nothing about the darker side of life. In any case, they had done all they could for now.

"You can head back to class." As a trial, she added, "I'll give your parents a call so they know you're alright for now but should see your family physician soon just to be safe."

Dean had been listening intently to their discussion and saw Ethan pale instantly at the mention of his father. _Shit… His dad will kill him._ He was by Ethan's side immediately.

"Uh… Ethan told me earlier that his dad was gonna be outta town for a few days. He's staying with his uncle right now. Isn't that right, Ethan?"

The stunned expression on Ethan face was comical, but he quickly recovered. "Right. I was just about to mention that before you stepped in. At least I know you were paying attention during our little chat session."

"What can I say? I'm a good listener."

Both boys smiled at Mrs. Prescott who looked taken aback at the tight bond they had already forged. She didn't know much about Ethan, but he seemed like the loner type. Then again, so did Dean. He didn't make friends when he was here, except with the girls. And yet here the two loners stood, shoulder to shoulder with identical grins in place to mask their true emotions. Curious…

"Alright then. If you leave his number with the secretary, we'll be sure to get in touch with him. Thank you both for your time, and you're dismissed."

She and her husband walked over to Bobby to thank him for bringing Dean by, and Ethan turned worriedly to Dean. "Dude, nice save, but I don't have an uncle!"

"Me either, but I do have a number. Give her this…" He took Ethan's notebook from his hands and scribbled down Pastor Jim's number. Then he scribbled his own underneath it. "The second one is mine."

"Whose is the first?"

"Pastor Jim's. He's a friend of the family."

"You're using a _pastor's_ name as my uncle? We are _so _goin' to hell for this. Won't he have a problem with lying to whoever calls?"

"Not if it's for the greater good. I'll give him a call when I get outta here and give him a heads up."

"You saved my ass, man. Thanks."

"I told you I had your back, didn't I?"

"Well I've got yours now too." Ethan wrote down his own number, ripped the paper away, and handed it to Dean. "If your dad goes postal and you need a place to hide out for a while, give me a call. I can hook you up."

"Uh… Thanks. Yeah, I'll do that. See you around."

Ethan stopped at the secretary's desk on the way out and gave her Pastor Jim's number, then sent one last wave over his shoulder to Dean as he headed to his next class, escorted by Mrs. Noble so she could inform the teacher of why he was late. Dean headed over to Bobby and the Prescotts. As he approached, he could hear their conversation.

"Thank you so much for stopping by, Bobby. It was nice to see you and Dean again."

"Thanks for givin' us a call. Looks like Ethan could use a friend."

"Do you think he's involved in your line of business?"

"I dunno, but I'll have a talk with Dean on the way home. I'm sure he's figured somethin' out about the kid."

"I think it's safe to say that boy is in some serious denial. I mean… A water horse? Come on."

The second Roger said the word "denial" all hell broke loose for Dean. Images and words came flooding to the foreground as a lock in his mind burst open. His hands flew to his temples and he crashed to his knees as his memories began to fill the empty void he had been desperate to get rid of for some time now.

He remembered the Wendigo attack in detail, down to every last injury he and his brother had received. He remembered Sam wanting to go to school the next day, being called to the guidance office, finding his brother already there and looking terrified, being questioned, separated from Sam, examined, drugged, and their dad showing up.

He remembered being hit with a migraine, Mrs. Prescott taking them home, then the demon attack… Oh god.

Bobby watched Dean hit the ground out of the corner of his eye. He was by his side in an instant.

"DEAN! Hey, look at me, son!"

Dean could hear Bobby's voice, but it sounded so far away, drowned out by the words of the past. The creature with the yellow eyes was taunting him.

"_How much do you __really __remember of that night, boy? I'm sure the Teach over here would love to hear all about it."_

_A look of horror and confusion passed over Mrs. Prescott's face as she turned her head from her 'husband' to Dean._

"_Dean? What is he talking about? Was he involved with the car crash?"_

"_Car crash?! Is that really the best you could come up with, Dean? I'm disappointed in you."_

"_Shut up."_

"_I'd love to see you make me. In fact, let's give it a go, shall we?"_

"_My pleasure…"_

_With that, Dean found he was no longer held down to the mattress. He surged up, perhaps faster than he should have, and squared up with the demon._

"_Dean, don't!" Sam cried out in terror._

"_Quiet, Sam. I've been waiting to do this for a long time… Bring it on, you bastard…"_

"Come on, Dean… Come back to us…" Bobby cradled Dean's convulsing body in his arms and tried tapping his face. Dean just continued to jerk and shake in his grasp.

Dean felt the pain of each injury the demon caused him as he watched them occur in fast forward mode. He remembered the game he was forced to play, and the result when he got a question wrong.

"_Let's play a little game, shall we? I control the knife, and if you don't want me to inflict pain on your brother or his teacher, you'll answer my questions truthfully. If I run out of questions, they remain unharmed. If you lie to me, they get what's coming to them. Do we have a deal?"_

"_What kind of questions?" Dean asked wearily. __This can't be good…_

"_I asked if we had a deal…" The knife pressed harder against Sam's skin, piercing it enough to cause a small drop of blood to rise to the surface. Sam squeezed his eyes shut in terror, forcing a few teardrops he had been holding back to leak from the sides. The salt water stung his new cut._

"_Yes, damn it! We have a deal, okay? Back off of him!"_

"_This should be interesting… Prescott, you might want to start taking notes…" He smirked at the frightened woman._

He remembered in great detail all the things the demon forced him to say and admit in front of his brother and father. And then there were the taunting words that jogged his memory in the first place…

"_Dean, Dean, Dean… What am I going to do with you?" Dean did not like the gleam in the demon's eyes._

"_Untying me would be a great start so I can kill your ass…"_

_The demon laughed, sending chills down everyone's spines. "That'll be the day. When are you going to accept the fact your family is never going to win against me?"_

"_Denial. You know, that's stage one."_

"_You would know all about that, wouldn't you, Deano? Then again, with __your__ life who could blame you?"_

"_There's nothing wrong with my life," Dean spat back in defense._

"_Oh dear… I believe that's both denial __and__ anger. And guess what, kid… Anger is stage two."_

"_Look, just let Sam and the Prescotts go and I'll do whatever you want."_

"_Dean, don't!" Sam yelled. Mrs. Prescott's eyes widened at the proposal as an innate need to protect the children came flooding to the surface._

"_Don't you touch one hair on his head!" she demanded._

"_Oh… Feisty. I like this one. What do you say we start with her?" The knife slowly floated towards her, stopping just shy of her throat._

"_NO! Please! Leave her alone!" Dean screamed in protest. "Use me!"_

"_My, my… Are we bargaining now, Dean? Sounds like stage three…"_

_Yellow-eyes placed two fingers against Dean's carotid artery, relishing in his racing heart rate. "Do you think you're a good person, Dean?"_

_Dean lifted his chin slightly to shoot the demon a questioning look. "Wha'?"_

"_You heard me. In that messed up head of yours, do you truly believe you're a good person?"_

"_Yes?"_

_The demon smirked as he felt the pulse beneath his fingers speed up even more. "You're lying again. Look me in the eye and tell me the truth! I'm waiting, Deano…"_

"_No," Dean grit out through clenched teeth. A lone tear trickled down his cheek at the admission._

"_Sounds like we've reached stage four, don't you think? Depression's a bitch."_

The images skipped forward to the real clincher.

"_Are you sure you're willing to die for them? To burn in the fires of hell for all eternity, just to let them keep living their miserable lives?"_

"_I'd die for every single one of them, any time, any day." There was such resolution in his voice that everyone in the room, demon excluded, were taken aback._

"_Score! Sounds like acceptance to me! I think it's safe to say you're grieving, kid. You've completed all five stages in less than a day. Congratulations, you're officially one of the most screwed up people I've ever met. You'll make a great leader for my army some day."_

Dean gasped in Bobby's arms, fighting the pain and horrified at the demon's proposition. But the images didn't end there.

Last but not least, the hardest memory to swallow was that the demon was causing his migraines. He had just had one earlier and that was why his father wanted to leave so suddenly. But apparently the demon was right. John cared more about the hunt than protecting his boys. After all, they were still in town, weren't they? Apparently, so was the demon. Lovely. That was his last thought as he blacked out.

TBC

Another long chapter, but I can't help myself! I'm officially obsessed with writing this story! Were the flashbacks too heavy handed, or was it good to put in the reminder cause it's been so long since the first story ended? Any opinions concerning Ethan now that you know him a bit better now? I'm still open for suggestions if you have them!


	8. Shaken Up

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

"Lay him down, Bobby," Mr. Prescott was on Dean's other side in seconds. "Don't restrain him or he'll hurt himself more."

Bobby quickly did as he was told and eased Dean to the floor. Mr. Prescott unbuttoned the top three buttons of Dean's shirt so they wouldn't restrict his breathing, then backed away, pulling Bobby with him.

"What the hell is happenin'?" Bobby demanded, never taking his eyes off of Dean.

"Looks like he's having a seizure. Just give him a second…"

Bobby's heart skipped a beat when Dean drew in a shuddering breath and then went completely still. Both men dropped quickly to their knees next to him once again. Mr. Prescott carefully rolled Dean onto his side to make breathing easier.

"What's goin' on, Bobby? Did Dean get injured recently? Does he have epilepsy? Has he been complaining about any pain?" He immediately began checking the boy's stats while waiting for Bobby's answer.

"No, he's been takin' it easy. He did have a migraine earlier… but that wouldn't have brought this on, would it?"

"Shouldn't have."

Mrs. Prescott noticed that Dean's display was bringing a rather large audience around so she slid to her knees next to her husband and whispered in his ear.

"We should get him into the other room. We're drawing a crowd."

Roger glanced up and realized there were kids gathering in the hallway just outside the door and the secretary was on her feet with the phone in her hand.

"I'll call 911!"

"NO!" Bobby and the Prescotts shouted at once.

"I'll handle it from here, Beth, thank you," Mr. Prescott added taking charge of the situation. "Bobby, give me a hand. Let's bring him into the exam room."

Mrs. Prescott cleared the way as the two men carried Dean to the small exam table and shut the door behind them.

"Has he ever had a seizure before?" Mr. Prescott directed to Bobby while listening to Dean's heart and lungs.

"Not that I know of. What the hell is goin' on, doc?"

"I'm not sure yet. His breathing is stabilizing though. That's a good sign."

He lifted Dean's eyelids to find that his eyes had rolled into the back of his head. He quickly checked for any bumps on his skull where he might have hit his head on the way down. The last thing this kid needed was a concussion. Roger lifted his shirt high enough to slide a hand underneath and began feeling for any swelling of Dean's organs, especially in his lower abdomen. Sudden intense pain was a common side effect for appendicitis.

"Has he had a lack of appetite or vomiting lately?"

"I don't think so. Dean's not exactly the kind of kid to complain though. If he was sick, there's a good chance none of us would've known."

"Hun, can you check his temp for me?"

Mrs. Prescott quickly pulled the thermometer out of her husband's bag and placed it in Dean's ear, pressed the button, and waited for the beep.

"99.9."

"Slight fever, but not enough for appendicitis. Seizures are caused by a burst of simultaneous, contradictory signals to the brain. They can be set off by a number of different things…"

As he talked, he pricked Dean's finger and checked his blood sugar level.

"Nothing out of the ordinary there… I'm afraid I'm going to have to say this is probably a pseudoseizure."

"A what?"

"It means it may have been brought on by emotional stress. It's purely psychological. Maybe meeting Ethan after everything he has been through recently wasn't such a good idea after all."

"How long till he wakes up?"

"Usually, they wake up just after the seizure stops…"

Roger leaned over Dean once more, concern evident in his features. He placed one hand back on Dean's abdomen, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as well as the warmth from his slightly over-heated skin.

Dean yelled and sat bolt upright, nearly knocking heads with the doc and falling right off the table. He grabbed Roger's wrist as though thinking he was being attacked. Dean was panting harshly and his eyes were darting around the room in panic.

"Whoa! Easy there, Tiger!" Mr. Prescott warned.

Bobby put a strong hand on Dean's shoulder from behind, making him jump, and quickly lowered him back to the table while Roger pushed against his other shoulder from in front of him with the same effect. Dean recognized Roger's voice and released the doc's wrist hoping he hadn't bruised it too badly.

Once he was lying flat again, Dean looked above him to lock frightened eyes with Bobby. The tension in his body relaxed slightly when he realized his friend was there with him and not the demon.

"B-Bobby?"

"You're alright, kid. Stay put and get yer bearings before you face plant off the table." Bobby wiped a relieved hand over his face. "Son, you've gotta stop passin' out on us like that. For one thing, my old heart can't take it anymore. And for another, it's hard enough wakin' yer lazy ass up on a normal day, let alone from unconsciousness."

"I passed out again? What happened?"

"You tell me. One minute you were sayin' goodbye to Ethan, and the next you were crumplin' to the floor. Was it another migraine?"

"I…" Dean didn't know whether he should tell Bobby the truth or not. What if he told his dad? But he had to say something, and right now his brain wasn't functioning well enough to come up with a plausible lie. "I remember, Bobby."

Bobby quirked an eyebrow. "Remember what?" he tested, though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

"Everything. I remember everything."

"Shit, Dean… I'm so sorry, kiddo. I shouldn't have brought you back here."

"I wanted to remember, Bobby. I begged dad not to make me drink this time, but he needed…"

"You what?! You _knew_ what was going to happen and he made you do it anyway?"

"He couldn't deal with me remembering, Bobby."

"That selfish son-of-a…"

"No, it's okay! I understand why he wanted me to, only it leaves this empty void… But the void is gone now. Please, Bobby. You can't tell dad I remember."

"Dean…"

"He'll just make me drink again, and I don't think I can do it. Please. Keep this between us, okay?"

"You know if you need to talk about it, I'm here, right?"

"Yeah. Thanks, man."

"Alright. I won't tell him for now, but if there's any reason why I feel he needs to know, I have to tell him, understand?"

"I understand."

"Right then. How're you feelin'? Think we can get outta here now?"

Dean looked around and goosebumps raced across his body when he realized where he was. He hated this room. He had never felt so scared in his life than when he was brought in here last time. Not even during his worst hunts. He nodded vigorously. He didn't care if he passed out again from moving as long as he was out of this room before he hit the ground.

Mr. Prescott gave him a quick once-over before giving him the okay to get up, and with his and Bobby's help, he made it out of the school and into the truck. He leaned his head against the window silently.

Dean felt like a computer that had crashed and rebooted. In fact, that was probably exactly what had happened. After all, the human body is a machine, and like any other machine, it has its limits. Apparently, breaking through a powerful memory bind was one of them. And now, just like any rebooting computer, he had a lot more information to process.

Oh, and he had to call Pastor Jim.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Meanwhile, John and Sam were relaxing on the motel beds and watching crappy daytime TV. John drifted off and was immediately assaulted with another nightmare.

"Why, John? Why did you let me die? I screamed for you, but you were too late!"

"God, Mary… I am so sorry. I tried! I didn't know what was happening! I didn't know then what I do now! I didn't know how to save you."

"It's _your_ fault, John. I'm dead because of _you_. My boys lost me because of _you_! And you're going to lose them too."

"No! I won't let that happen!"

"You'll fail them like you failed me."

"Don't say that! Don't you say that!"

"They'll die right in front of you, and there is nothing you can do to stop it."

"NO!"

John woke with a jolt as his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He glanced around for Sam, then heard him running the water in the kitchen. He sighed, cleared his throat, and answered the phone.

"Yeah?"

"John? You alright? You sound shaken up."

"I'm fine, Bobby. Just another nightmare."

"What do you mean _another_ one?"

"Nothin'. I just had one earlier before Dean's migraine hit, that's all."

"Strange coincidence…"

"I'm sure it's nothin'. Don't worry about it. What did you call for?"

"Just lettin' you know we're on our way back."

"Alright. How'd it go?"

"We'll give you all the details when we get there."

"Fair enough. See you then."

Both men hung up, then John rose to his feet slowly and stretched out the kinks in his back before heading to the kitchen to find out why Sam was wasting so much water.

TBC

Shout out to everyone who has reviewed so far! You're all amazing and thank you sooo much for the support! How am I doing so far?


	9. Busted

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: **Will contain child abuse and excessive language**! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

"Sam? What're you… Sam?" John entered the kitchen to find Sam standing at the sink with the water running. However, he was clearly not focused on filling the cup in his hands because it was overflowing and probably had been for a while. Instead, his focus was locked somewhere out the kitchen window behind the sink, and he looked extremely pale.

John strode over quickly, shut the water off, and searched the grounds outside the window. As far as he could tell, there was nothing there. He grabbed his youngest by the shoulders and turned him away from the window so they were face to face, breaking the boy's frozen stare.

"Sammy? What's wrong? What did you see?"

"Dad? I… I…" Sam's head slowly turned until he was looking out the window again. John forcefully gripped his chin and turned his head back.

"Sam, snap out of it! Now look at me! What. Did. You. See?"

"Y-yellow. Glowing yellow eyes n-near the car."

"Are you sure? Did you see anything else?" John felt his own panic welling inside again.

"N-no. It just stared back at me for a w-while and then disappeared. W-what was it?" Sam was trembling beneath John's strong grip. John pulled him to his chest and held him tightly to both reassure himself that Sam was safe and to keep Sam off the floor.

"It's okay, Sammy. You're safe. I've gotcha."

"Dad? Dean…?"

"Shit! Hang on, kiddo. I've gotta make a quick phone call. Come with me into the living room. Stay away from the windows!" He pushed Sam gently into a corner where he was out of sight from all the windows in the room, then pulled his cell phone out and began methodically checking all the lines of salt and to see if he could catch sight of the demon outside. On the second ring, Bobby picked up.

"Bobby? Do NOT bring Dean back here yet, understand?"

"John? What the hell are you on about?"

"It was here, Bobby."

"Damn it. You two alright?"

"It gave Sam a scare, but it can't get in. It was just staring at him. I don't know which one of my boys he wants anymore, but I'm not gonna take any chances. Get Dean as far away from here as you can and do not let him outta your sight, you hear me?"

"You don't have ta tell _me_ twice. Be careful, John."

"You too."

John hung up and headed back to Sam.

"Dad? What was that thing?"

"Nothin' for you to be concerned about. I've got it handled."

"Is Dean okay?"

"God I hope so."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dean glanced at Bobby as his friend snapped his cell shut.

"Bobby? What's wrong? Dad and Sam okay?"

"Yeah, they're fine. We've gotta make a pit stop before we head back though."

"Where?"

Bobby thought fast. "Gotta pick up some supplies to replenish the first aid kit."_ We're probably gonna need them. _Bobby couldn't stop his dark thoughts from floating through his mind.

"Oh. Okay." It was obvious Dean didn't believe that was all the phone call was about, but he didn't say anything else about it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ethan tried to hold back the groan of resignation as he practically tripped over the beer bottles scattered across his living room floor. So his dad had started early. Great. He had just gotten home from school. Needless to say, it wasn't five o'clock yet.

That meant one of two things. Either he had gotten in trouble somehow, or today marked some sort of depressing anniversary only his dad knew about.

More than likely it was the first. But the school didn't call him, did they? They were supposed to call his unrelated uncle, loaned to him by Dean. No matter what the cause, Ethan didn't want to find out. If he made it up to his room silently, his dad might not even realize he was home yet.

He began creeping towards the stairs and did his best to avoid the creaks. He knew where most of them were because he had to do this more times than he'd like to admit. Five steps to go… Four… CRREEEAAAAKKKK. Shit. That's a new one.

He froze, listening intently for his father to come storming towards him. He wasn't sure which direction he'd be coming from, so he readied himself to run in either direction. Once he counted to a minute, he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Maybe the old man wasn't home. Maybe he went to the closest bar he could find, or maybe he had already passed out somewhere and wouldn't wake until Ethan was long gone in the morning. Wishful thinking much?

He scurried up the last two stairs and kept his eyes over his shoulder in case his dad came up from behind him. The result was walking straight in to two hundred and fifty pounds of pissed off flesh. _That didn't work so well…_ His dad was waiting for him in Ethan's room.

"D-dad? Everything okay?"

"Is anything _ever _okay around here?" his dad growled.

_Not with you around, no. _Not wanting to appear weak and pathetic, he straightened up and looked his father in the eyes. _Bad idea_. He could literally watch his father's face turning redder.

"You disrespectful punk! Don't you stare down at me!"

The backhand caught Ethan by surprise, though he chastised himself for not having had expected it. It's not like he was new to this whole _kill the kid _craze. His tongue darted out to test the damage done and stem the bleeding that was dripping down his chin.

"I'm sorry, sir." Ethan forced his eyes to stay downcast, not wanting his dad to feel challenged. He knew he'd lose the fight if it began.

"Damn right you're sorry!" Wow, he sounded more lucid than Ethan had expected. Definitely not good. When his dad was really drunk, he'd take a few swings and either forget what he was doing and walk away leaving Ethan on the floor, or he'd pass out from alcohol poisoning. Either way, his punishment would be over. But when his dad was still lucid, it meant he was just getting started. "Did I raise you to be disrespectful?"

"No, sir." Ethan kept his eyes glued to the carpet, but made sure his father never left the edge of his sights.

"Look at me when I'm talkin' to you, boy!" Ethan's eyes snapped back onto his father's. This is when it always got interesting. His dad would contradict himself constantly when he had a good buzz going. Either way, Ethan was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

_Don't look confrontational, but don't look away._ _Sure… Easy enough, right? _Ethan wanted to know what had set his father off this time, but didn't want to risk asking. No doubt he'd find out sooner or later anyway.

"You're damn lucky I still keep you around. I should've sent you to the streets years ago!"

_I wish you had. I've tried to run away before but you always send the cops after me! Can't you see I just want to stay out of your way?_

"Yes, sir." Ethan couldn't help the slight sarcasm that leaked into his voice. Oops.

"What's that? You _want _to live on the streets? You ungrateful little bastard! After everythin' I've done for you since your mom up and left…!"

A fist the size of a bowling ball sunk deeply into Ethan's lean stomach. He gasped and hit the ground hard on all fours, desperately trying to draw in air.

"Get up!"

Ethan grunted as a swift kick connected with his ribs, aggravating his older injuries and possibly cracking a rib or two. He tried to move with it to decrease the impact and fell to the side. He wasn't the best fighter, but over the years he had learned to roll with the punches to lessen the amount of injury.

Kicks and punches rained down on him until he had lost all strength to move. Ethan just laid there and took it, pretending he was anywhere else but there. Eventually, his dad either got bored with him or wanted another beer.

"Worthless piece of shit…" he muttered as he headed out the door and stumbled his way down the stairs.

Ethan mustered enough energy to crawl under his bed and collapsed. He hoped he didn't leave a blood trail that would reveal his hiding spot if his father came back for a second round. That was his last thought as he passed out on the hard wooden floor.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Bobby couldn't stall in the store any longer without looking suspicious, he and Dean went back out to the truck. Dean stayed quiet until Bobby pulled out going in the opposite direction of the motel.

"Out with it, Bobby. That demon is back, isn't it?"

"Boy, you are your father's son through and through. Yeah. It made an appearance, but yer dad and Sam are fine. He wants us to stay away for now until he knows it's safe. Damn thing could be anywhere."

Dean nodded his understanding.

"So where are we goin'?"

"I was thinkin' maybe Jim's?"

"Pastor Jim… Shit! I forgot to call him!" Dean fumbled to pull his cell from his pocket.

"What were you supposed to call him for?"

"I gave the school his number to protect Ethan. Damn it… Pick up!"

"_Hello?"_

"Pastor Jim? It's Dean."

"_Well hello there, son. Everything alright?"_

"That depends. Did you get a call today from a high school? My old one to be exact?"

"_Yes, I believe I did. They were calling for a boy by the name of Ethan. I had never heard of him, so I told them they must have the wrong number. Why? What's going on?"_

"Crap! I'm gonna have to fill you in later, Pastor. I've gotta make a quick phone call…"

With that, Dean hung up and pulling the crumpled piece of paper he had shoved into his pocket earlier, quickly dialed Ethan's number to warn him not to go home. He glanced at the clock and his heart sank into his stomach. School had been over for hours.

With every ring Dean felt more nauseous. Eventually, the voice mail picked up. He hung up and tried again, but got the same result. Bobby watched him with a frown. When he hung up the second time, Bobby spoke up.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"I think Ethan's in trouble."

TBC

Again, sensitive subject! Over the top? Was it realistic?


	10. A Miracle

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Ethan was slowly dragged back to consciousness by a shrill ringing. It had stopped and started again before he was cognizant enough to identify it as his cell phone which had somehow ended up across the room. Funny, he thought his cell was in his pocket. Apparently it had been knocked out while he was flying through the air into walls.

He knew it was probably Dean. Not many people had his number, and yet he couldn't muster the strength or courage to crawl out from under his bed to retrieve it. He just wished the incessant ringing would stop and that the darkness would claim him again.

Sure enough, it did stop, and then he found himself wishing it would ring again. As much as the sound hurt his head, it was also the sound that showed him someone cared enough to keep calling. It showed him someone out there was worried about him, or at least trying to get in touch with him. He had never had that before. And when it stopped, all he could think of was that this person calling had given up on him too. Well why shouldn't they? Everyone else did. Story of his life.

He didn't even try to stop the tears from escaping his swollen eyes and stinging the fresh cuts on his face. He had finally given up and not one person was going to try and stop him. Ethan had never felt more alone in his life than he did when that phone stopped ringing. Then he felt a strong hand grab his wrist and his mind went blank except for the repetitive _no no no no no…Please, not again! Make it stop!_

It was only when a heavy hand clamped over his mouth that he realized he was shouting these words aloud. He tried to pull away from the second punishment he was sure was headed his way, but he was in too much pain to make it far. Instead, he cried out as every injury made itself known and he tried to beg for mercy from under the hand.

"Hey, hey… It's gonna be okay, Ethan…"

Ethan blinked the tears from his eyes that had been clouding his vision and gasped.

"Dean?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dean knew he had to come clean about Ethan's abuse to Bobby. He needed to get to the kid's house to check on him, and Bobby certainly wouldn't do that for the hell of it. Not with a demon on their tail. He'd want an explanation. And that is exactly what he demanded once Dean had stated that the boy might be in trouble.

"What are you on about, Dean? What's happenin' with Ethan?"

"Bobby, I swore I wouldn't tell anyone. You just have to trust me, okay?"

"Son, you know I trust you, but I need to know what we're headin' into before we land ourselves in a sticky situation. Is the kid a hunter?"

"No."

"No? Huh. Didn't see that comin'. Is his family in the business at all?"

"I don't think so. Well, they don't hunt the supernatural. But I'd have to say his dad hunts _him_ a lot."

"Hunts _him_? Oh. Christ."

"Yeah."

"He told you about this?"

"Not at first, but he thought I was abused too so he opened up to me when we went for that walk around the school. I could tell he was in a lot of pain, Bobby. His dad must've really wailed on him. I just… I can't let it happen to him again, okay?"

"I understand where this is comin' from, Dean, but he's not yer little brother. You don't have to protect everyone you know."

"I _want_ to. This kid has no one else. He trusted me enough to tell the truth and give me his number. I can't see why he wouldn't answer now unless he can't get to his phone or he's been beat to hell again and is unconscious. I just wanna swing by and check on him. That's all. You've been stallin' for the past hour or so for dad. Can't we stall a little more?"

Bobby had to admit he didn't want to go too far from John and Sam if he could help it, and Jim's was quite a distance. "Alright. We'll swing by, but then I've gotta get you safe."

"Thank you, Bobby."

"Thank me when we know the kid's alright. You know where he lives?"

"Yeah. I saw his file folder in Mrs. Noble's office and one of the forms had his address on it."

"When in the hell… Oh never mind. Your illegal talents never cease to amaze me."

Dean beamed. "Why thank you. I learned from the best."

He flipped his cell open again and continued to try and get through all the way to Ethan's house. Still, there was no answer.

"Let's go, kid." Bobby led the way to the front door and rang the bell. No one came, so he tried the knob. It was locked. "I'm not sure they're home, Dean."

"He has no place else to go, Bobby. They've gotta be home."

"You got yer lock picks?"

"Course."

"Well then get to work. We ain't got all day ya know."

"Yes, sir." With a broad smile on his face, Dean had the door open in less than a minute.

"Not bad. Stay behind me."

Bobby eased the door open and looked around. He could see the top of a man's head sitting in a chair in front of the television.

"Excuse me. Didn't mean to barge in…" Bobby tried, but he received no response from the man. He moved further into the room step by step until he reached the chair. The man appeared to have drunk himself into unconsciousness. Bobby looked around at all the beer bottles scattered across the floor, then took in the blood on the man's hands and shirt. None of it seemed to belong to him except for a few busted knuckles. "Dean, go find your friend. I'll keep an eye on this one. You run into any trouble, you call me, understand?"

"Yes, sir." Dean slid quietly to the stairs which he assumed led to the bedrooms. He made it up in relative silence until he hit the third stair from the top which creaked obnoxiously. He glanced back at Bobby who rolled his eyes and gestured for him to hurry up, then made it up the last few stairs and began searching the rooms.

The second door he came across on the left seemed like a teenage boy's room. It suited Ethan with the rock posters on the walls and black and red decor. His eyes tracked around the room, spotting the discarded cell in the corner and the blood splatters on practically every surface there. His stomach flipped horribly as he edged into the room.

He couldn't see Ethan anywhere, but there was a particularly long streak of red leading underneath the small bed in the center of the back wall. Carefully and quietly, he sank to his hands and knees and lifted the skirt of the bed. Ethan was lying there, staring at the opposite wall where his cell phone was, apparently oblivious to Dean's presence.

Dean reached forward and latched onto Ethan's wrist, mainly to see if he was still alive and conscious. He certainly wasn't prepared for Ethan to start begging for his life and pleading with Dean not to hurt him again. Once Dean broke out of his shocked state, he covered Ethan's mouth so his screams didn't wake his father downstairs. Then he quickly set to comforting the boy as best he could.

"Hey, hey… It's gonna be okay, Ethan…"

He watched the boy blink heavily and more tears were forced from his eyes. Then he really looked at Dean and their eyes met.

"Dean?" Fear, confusion, and hope were all mixed into that one word.

"Yeah, dude. It's me. You didn't answer your cell."

"I _knew _it was you calling. But how…? How did you find me? How did you get in? How'd you get past my dad?"

"I'll explain as soon as we get outta here, okay?"

"But… I can't leave."

"Yes you can. You have to. Look what he did to you, Ethan! Come with me, and my family will protect you."

"Protect me? Why would they protect me when your dad is as bad as mine?"

"He's not." Dean's churning stomach dropped. This could be where he loses the kid's trust if he wasn't careful.

"What? But you said…"

"I never lied to you, Ethan. I thought we were talking about one thing and we actually were talkin' about two different things. It took me too long to realize that, but by then the damage was done so I told you about the one time my dad ever laid a hand on me. But it was nothin' like what your dad just did to you. I promise I'll keep you safe, but we've gotta go now before he wakes up."

"But he'll kill me if I disappear. He's called the cops before. I can't do that to you and your family. I can't get you involved."

"Ethan, please come out from under the bed. We've gotta move, now."

He wanted to go with Dean and never look back again, but he wasn't sure his body would allow him to leave the confines of his bed. His entire body was on fire with every muscle twitch he made.

"I… I don't know if I can."

"I'll help you. Come on, take my hand." It was the first time someone offered him a hand that hadn't been trying to cause him pain. He took it, and with a few painful minutes of tug of war, he was free.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Let's go."

Dean helped him downstairs and to the car. Bobby made sure they were safely outside before he headed out the door with pure disgust on his face. He saw the state Ethan was in. How could a human being do that to another person, let alone his own son? He understood Dean's drive to protect the boy now because he shared it as well. Like it or not, he was bringing two kids back with him to John.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

John was pacing the floor, repeatedly checking each window for any trace of the demon when he heard the roar of the truck's engine and saw it pulling into the driveway.

"What in the hell…?"

He gaped when he looked out the window and saw Dean and Bobby half dragging what looked like a stunt guy from _Fight Club_ towards the door. He swung it open when they got close and covered them with a shotgun until they were safely inside.

Sam flew over to Dean the moment his brother came into view, leaving his corner behind.

"Dean! What happened? Is he okay?"

"Not now, little man. Give us a sec." John toyed with the idea of ordering Sam back to his corner, but didn't want to risk starting another fight and to be honest, his attention was more focused on the bruised and batter boy he didn't remember fathering.

"Bobby? What's goin'…"

"John, meet Ethan, or what's left of him. Turns out he's not a hunter's kid at all. He's the son of a psychotic son-of-a-bitch with a mean punch."

They eased the boy to a sitting position on one of the beds and Bobby began sorting through all the first aid supplies they had just purchased. _I knew we'd be needin' this stuff sooner rather than later. _He glanced back up at John.

"Any sign of you-know-what?"

"Not since Sammy saw him. Where did you get this kid? You know kidnappin' is illegal?"

"Like that's ever stopped us."

"Point taken. I told you not to bring Dean back here, Bobby. It might not be safe yet!"

"Well we can't wait forever, John. What would you have me do? I couldn't just leave Ethan in that house once we found him."

John glanced at the boy again and his seemingly cold heart melted. "What do you need, Bobby?" He stood next to his friend, ready to help hand him supplies. Bobby glanced at Ethan too before replying.

"A miracle."

TBC

How am I doing? Did you like the rescue?


	11. Walk Away

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

John was about to order Sam to wet some towels from the bathroom to help clean up the blood, but then thought better of it. He didn't want Sam straying out of his sight, even for a second.

"Be right back," he stated gruffly to Bobby who simply nodded and continued setting out the supplies.

True to his word, John came back seconds later with a handful of damp towels. He saw Ethan flinch away as he advanced towards him, forgetting how foreboding he looked when pissed, worried, and standing at his full height. He slowed his pace down and knelt in front of the boy so he wasn't towering over him.

"So you're Ethan, huh?" Maybe a little small talk would loosen the kid up a bit. Ethan nodded, but kept his mouth shut. His eyes were darting around the room as though searching for an exit and an excuse to not make eye contact with John. John understood immediately. "I'm not gonna hurt you, son. You're safe now."

Ethan had it stuck in his head that John was just as bad as his own father, but tried to focus on what Dean had told him back at his house. Supposedly, John had only hit Dean once. He'd trade with _that_ life any day.

Ever so slowly, Ethan's eyes drifted towards him and eventually locked with the older man's. John waited patiently for the boy to recognize the sincerity in his eyes and accept his help. Dean sat down on the bed next to Ethan to help comfort him, but made sure he didn't touch the boy in fear that he would cause him more pain or startle him.

Sam stood next to Dean's other shoulder and wrapped a small hand around his upper arm. Dean gave him his classic wink to reassure his little brother that everything was going to be okay, then turned his attention back to Ethan. He felt his admiration for his dad rise even higher as he watched how careful he was around the frightened boy.

John moved his hand with one of the towels slowly up towards Ethan's face. He made sure his hand didn't stray out of the boy's sight, and any time Ethan flinched or pulled back, he'd wait patiently again for him to relax. After a few short pauses, the towel connected with the boy's face and John began to gently clear away the dried blood and tear tracks.

Bobby stood close by, watching them interact with each other. This was the John he used to know, back before he became the drill sergeant he is now. Once most of the boy's face was clean, John tried to get him talking again.

"Can you tell me what happened, Ethan?"

"I… I'm not sure exactly. I just came home from school and he was already drunk."

"He do that often?"

"Not like _that_. A few beers a day is normal, but today… He just lost it."

Dean stood abruptly and marched outside. He was furious with himself for forgetting to call Pastor Jim earlier. If he had, none of this would have happened.

John went after him almost immediately, handing the now red stained towel to Bobby.

"Dean? What the hell are you doin' out here! Get back inside!" _where it's safe_…

Dean kicked a rock so hard in frustration that it sailed all the way down the street until it was out of sight. John grabbed his elbow to drag him back towards the motel, but Dean spun fast and broke his grip. Even John had to admit it was a nice move.

"I could have stopped this, dad!" he blurted out.

"What are you talkin' about? Could've stopped what?"

Dean motioned towards the room they had just left. "_That_! I could have protected him!"

"How's that?"

"We had a plan worked out. The school was goin' to call his dad about the injuries they had found, so I gave him Pastor Jim's number to use instead. I was going to warn Jim about the call, but I…" He trailed off, remembering that his dad wasn't supposed to find out what had happened to him at the school.

"You… what? Talk to me, Dean."

"I just forgot, okay? I let him down, and he got hurt because of _me_."

"Come on, Dean. We can discuss this inside."

Dean was tempted to say he didn't care if the demon came after him at this point. Hell, he'd deserve it after what he'd done… But that would require letting his dad know he remembered everything, and _that_ was out of the question. It didn't mean he was done with the guilt trip though.

"I've barely known Ethan for a day now, and I've already failed him. No wonder he can't trust anyone. This is all my fault!"

"What's all your fault?" a soft voice came from the doorway. Ethan was slumped wearily against the frame. Apparently he hadn't let Bobby continue patching him up. Instead, he wanted to make sure he hadn't upset Dean.

"What your dad did to you today. It's my fault. Ethan, I forgot to call Pastor Jim."

"How could you forget, Dean? It was only a few hours ago!" Ethan finally understood why his dad had been on a rampage. The school must have called his house when his "uncle" had never heard of him. He could feel the anger welling inside himself towards Dean. He had thought this kid was his friend. He had thought that he cared, at least enough to make a simple phone call. He was obviously wrong.

"I'm so sorry, man. I…"

"I don't wanna hear it. I'm gonna go lay down. Not feelin' so good all of a sudden." With one last glare, Ethan turned his back on Dean and began heading back to the bedroom. Bobby had been listening from just inside the doorway. He could see how crushed Dean was now.

"Wait one second, son," Bobby demanded. Ethan stopped, but didn't turn to face the man, preferring to hide his pain by boring holes in the carpet with his heated gaze.

"What _now_?" he groaned, really not in the mood to keep talking.

"Dean _forgot_ because he was _unconscious_."

"What?" That caught his attention. He turned slightly to glimpse Dean out the front window. He looked dejected and angry with himself.

"Don't just blow him off, son. He really _does _care about you."

Ethan bit his lip, then moved back towards the door. He needed to hear it straight from Dean.

"Dean… Tell me what happened."

Dean looked up again when he heard Ethan's voice. He had to say _something _to redeem himself, but he couldn't tell the _whole _truth in front of his father.

"I… I got hit with a bad migraine just after you left for class, and next thing I knew, I was wakin' up in the exam room. I completely lost track of time and…"

"It's okay." Ethan's voice was so passive and soft that Dean almost missed it.

"No, it's not. That one screw up almost cost you your life!"

"Hang on, you passed out today? And what's this about _another_ migraine?" John interrupted. The boys continued as though he hadn't spoken.

"Dean, he just banged me up a bit. It's not like I'm not used to it by now."

"I should have protected you better."

"It's not your job to protect me, dude. I appreciate the attempt. It would have been a great idea if it had worked."

"I'm so sorry, Ethan."

"Me too. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. It's just, I'm used to believing in the worst in everybody, you know? I'm not used to havin' people around that actually give a shit."

"Can we please move this back inside, boys?" John wasn't a man to be ignored for long.

Once everyone was safely behind closed doors once more, John turned to stare intently at Bobby, but spoke to his son.

"Dean, see what you can do for Ethan, alright? Bobby and I need to talk for a minute."

"Yes, sir."

Bobby looked stonily back at John, fully aware of what this conversation was going to entail.

Dean watched the two adults warily before leading Ethan back into the bedroom.

"So that's your dad, huh? Not as bad as I was picturing. Not the friendliest guy on the planet, but a hell of a lot better than _my_ dad." Dean didn't miss the hint of jealously in the boy's voice, but he chose to ignore it.

"Every family has its problems." He picked up one of the towels and looked uncomfortably back at Ethan who nodded his consent.

"Yeah? What's wrong with yours?" Ethan tried to stay as still as possible as Dean began dabbing away more of the blood from his face.

Dean was saved from answering when Sam came back into the room carrying prescription pain killers. He handed them to Dean and waited obediently for any further instructions. Sam had impeccable timing.

"Thanks, Sammy." He wasn't just thanking him for the pills.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the other room, John pulled Bobby further away from the door so the boys couldn't hear their conversation.

"What's goin' on, Bobby? Why didn't you tell me Dean had a spell at school?"

"It was significantly more than a _spell,_ John. Damn good thing the doc was at hand. Dean doubled over in pain from his head, then passed out cold on the floor. He wasn't out for too long though and seemed to recover pretty well considerin'."

"And all this just happened to slip your mind until now?"

"Course not, but with everythin' else that's goin' on, that kinda took a back seat once I knew he was gonna be okay."

"I've got to get them both away from here, Bobby. Then I'm gonna have to come back and kill that yellow eyed son-of-a-bitch myself."

"What makes you think those boys of yours will let you do that? They're gonna want to be a part of it, John, and you can't deny them after everything they've suffered at its hands."

"I'm trying to keep them from suffering more! Every time that thing gets close Dean has a migraine strong enough to disable him. Now how can I possibly let them in on this fight? He's just goin' to get himself killed."

"You should have more faith in your boys than that." Bobby walked back towards the other room, leaving a stunned John behind.

"He can't stay, Bobby!" John called after him, making Bobby turn back.

"Who can't? Dean? I'd like to see you try and stop the kid…"

"No, not Dean. Ethan. We have no right to interfere, and if his dad calls the cops… We can't get involved and you know it."

"What would you have me do, John? Kick him out to the streets? Send him home to that waste of space father of his?"

"I don't care how you do it, but I want him gone by morning. I won't risk my family for somethin' like this. You can't ask me to."

"You'll risk them in a fight against a black dog or wendigo, but you won't when it comes to protecting another human bein'? I thought you were a better man than that, John."

This time, John didn't try to stop him as Bobby walked away.

TBC

Reviews? Please?


	12. Painful Revelations

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Special thanks to all the reviewers so far! I'm thrilled you're all so attentive! I could have sworn I put in a few paragraphs on Ethan's sister and her whereabouts, but when I went back, I couldn't find it! Maybe I dreamt writing it… Well this chapter should answer most of your questions, but if you have more, feel free to ask! There is also some back story for Ethan and his family. Thanks again for sticking with me!

Bobby went to check on the boys again and found Dean doing an expert patch job on Ethan's face and Sam standing next to him, ready to help in any way he could. These boys had grown up way too fast. They were only eleven and fifteen, but they acted like they were in their thirties at least. Hell, a lot of the time they were more mature than their own father. Bobby chuckled to himself, but it caught the boys' attention from across the room.

Dean quirked an eyebrow at him, clearly wondering how the conversation between John and Bobby could have possibly been funny.

"Don't let me interrupt. You're doin' a great job there, kiddo."

"Had a lot of practice." Dean froze the second the words left his mouth. Not surprisingly, Ethan latched onto the words.

"What do you mean? I thought… I mean, your dad… But…"

"No, nothin' like that, man. It's just, what we do for a living…"

"Yeah?" Ethan pressed.

"It can get kinda dicey is all."

"And what _do _you guys do?"

Dean sighed. "Ethan, I don't want to lie to you, dude."

"So don't."

"We're hunters," Bobby stepped in. It wasn't a lie, and he would let the boy draw his own conclusions.

"Hunters, huh? So… what? Your prey gets the better of you sometimes?"

"You could say that," Dean responded, sending a grateful look in Bobby's direction who nodded back.

"Huh. Attacked by Bambi. I don't remember _that_ being in the movie."

Dean laughed. "That was only the Disney version."

"Maybe I could come with you guys sometime." There was hope in his voice that Dean didn't want to destroy, so he dropped his eyes to the ground and mumbled out a generic answer.

"Yeah, maybe."

"Son, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'm sure yer dad is gonna come lookin' for you eventually, and we have no right to take you away from him."

"I understand. Thanks guys, for everything. He's probably still out of it. I'll just slip home and he won't be any the wiser in the morning."

"No. At least stay the night. Either me or John'll bring you home in the mornin' and have a talk with yer dad." The underlying threat was obvious.

"You guys don't have to do that. I'll be fine. I always am. Just stay out of his way."

"Believe me, boy, we can hold our own. Let's finish gettin' you patched up and then you can crash for the night. Did you eat anythin'?"

"Not since this morning."

"Well we'll fix that while we're at it."

"Can we order a pizza?" Sam asked hopefully, making the others laugh.

"I don't see why not. Cheese okay with everyone? I'll go see what John wants. You boys stay here."

Bobby wanted to check if it would be better at this point for one of them to go pick it up or for it to be delivered. He was already pretty sure he knew the answer he'd get.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dean finished putting a butterfly bandage on one of the deeper cuts near Ethan's hairline and then took a step back to admire his handiwork. "Alright, well that's done with. Anythin' else?"

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks." Ethan made to push up off the bed when an obvious wince crossed his face and his hand flew to his side.

Dean frowned, giving him the _busted _face. "Come on, dude. Shirt off."

"It's fine, really."

"Yeah, and Hitler was just misunderstood. Let's go." Dean motioned for him to remove his shirt once more. Ethan's eyes shot to Sam and then back to Dean again with an almost pleading look. Dean understood immediately.

"Sammy, go check on dad for me, okay? Make sure they get enough pizzas cause I'm starvin'."

"Okay. And I'll make sure he remembers you like anchovies on yours too." The smirk he sent Dean was pure evil.

"You do and you die, bitch."

"Jerk."

And with that, Sam was out of sight. When he made it into the other room, he found his dad and Bobby having another deep discussion, but once they saw he was there, they stopped immediately. He did catch the tail end of it though.

"So tell me about these dreams of yers again."

"She kept saying 'come to me,' Bobby."

"Only cause it was tryin' to throw you off its trail."

"So you don't think it's a crocotta?"

"Crocottas don't tend to communicate through dreams. I think I know what yer dealin' with, John." That's when they realized Sam was standing in the doorway.

"Need somethin', Sam?" John asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Dean sent me to check on you guys. Did you order the pizza yet?"

John gave Bobby one last look, then began pulling out paper plates and napkins.

"Yeah, Sam. I'm gonna go pick 'em up in a few," Bobby responded.

"Cool. Can I come?"

"That's up to yer dad."

Sam gave his dad a hopeful look and who could resist those puppy dog eyes? Certainly not John or Dean.

"Yeah, alright. But you two be careful. Come straight back once you have them."

"Hey, dad?"

"Mhm?"

"Do you think that thing is still out there? The thing with the yellow eyes? What does it want?"

"I dunno, Sam." John sounded weary so Sam didn't press the matter for once. Bobby broke the uncomfortable silence.

"I'll go see if the boys need anythin' before we take off. Get yer coat, kiddo."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dean turned back to Ethan as soon as Sam had cleared the corner.

"Alright, dude. Let's get this over with before they come back."

Ethan nodded in resignation, then carefully lifted his shirt a few inches before wincing again and stopping. Dean reached forward, gently took hold of the hem, and lifted it to Ethan's chin. He felt like he had been sucker punched when he took in the damage.

The deep bruising across his ribs and abdomen could easily be hiding broken ribs or internal bleeding. Dean stood and walked to the side of the bed, keeping Ethan's shirt raised, and saw lacerations crisscrossing the boy's back that seemed to have been made from a belt.

"Jesus…" Dean breathed out, feeling sick to his stomach.

"It's not as bad as it looks, Dean."

Dean was clearly pissed now. "I suppose not, cause if it was, you'd be dead! That son-of-a-bitch! Why haven't you ever called the cops on the bastard? I think he's given you plenty of evidence for abuse!"

"Cause I didn't want to go into the system. I couldn't leave Emma behind."

"Emma?"

"My little sister."

"Oh shit, that's right! Shouldn't we go pick her up or somethin'? Her school must have gotten out a few hours ago."

"Nah, I sent her to a friend's house for the week. My dad was getting overly agitated so I knew he was bound to lose it soon. She's safe. He doesn't know where she is."

"You two seem really close."

"Yeah, just like you and Sam. You and me, we got the same purpose in life; watchin' out for them. And they're supposed to remain blissfully ignorant."

"God, I wish that was true."

"Same here. Just like Sam, she didn't know anything about what my dad did to me until recently. Maybe a year or so ago now… Anyway, I lost track of time cause the old man just wouldn't let up, and she came walkin' in after school… The look on her face, I'll never forget it. It stopped him in his tracks, for a while at least. Long enough for me to tell her to run upstairs and hide."

"But he never went after her, right?" Even though Dean had never met Emma, he felt just as protective towards her as he did Sam. In his mind, kids should always remain innocent and ignorant. He wished he could give that back to Sam every day.

"No. He wouldn't dare. He took one step towards her when she yelled at him to leave me alone and I knocked him into next Tuesday. First time I ever swung back. Paid a pretty penny for it afterwards too, but at least she was safe. There were one or two times when he'd knock me unconscious and I'd wake up with her puttin' me back together again, but mostly it wasn't anythin' I couldn't handle myself."

"Ethan, the system would have been better than _that_! You could have taken her with you!"

"I've been in the system before, Dean. I ran away when I was eight after leaving Emma with a neighbor and tellin' her I'd come back for her once I had a plan, and the police picked me up less than an hour later. I didn't tell them who I was or who my dad was, so they assumed I didn't have a family and dropped me off at an orphanage. I ended up with an even bigger asshole than my dad if you can believe that, so I ran back to him and he told me _that'll teach you to run away, won't it?_ He gave me the beating of my life, but allowed me to come back. I picked Emma up the next day. You know, it doesn't usually get _this_ bad. I tried to run a few times when I was older, but he always caught up with me. So I just gave in to the fact that this is my life, and I'd better get used to it cause there's nothin' I can do to change it."

Dean was more than frustrated with his friend's circumstances, but all he could do at the moment was continue patching him up.

"Have you ever stood up to him since that time he went after Emma?" he asked as he put alcohol on a cotton swab and began cleaning the lacerations on his back.

Ethan hissed as the alcohol burned. "Yeah right. I don't have a death wish, dude. I can't fight to save my life. That punch was just a distraction to bring his attention back to me. I didn't have a chance in hell at winning."

Bobby stuck his head back into the room. "I'm gonna go get the pizza with Sam so… holy shit."

Both boys jumped at his voice and swung towards the doorway to find Bobby gazing in horror at Ethan's torso.

"I've got it covered, Bobby. Dad stayin' here?" Dean tried to get Bobby's attention off of Ethan who was cowering next to him.

"Yeah… Uh… Have him take a look at that bruisin', will ya, Dean? There could be internal damage."

"I know, Bobby. I will, thanks."

Ethan's head swung around to him, pinning him with a terrified and betrayed stare. "You'll _what_?!" he hissed so only Dean could hear.

Bobby nodded and backed out of the room again. Dean turned his focus to Ethan. "I'm sorry, man, but he really needs to take a look at this. You could be bleedin' internally and I'm not that great at determinin' that sort of thing yet. My dad was a marine, so he knows a lot about first aid."

Ethan was sulking now.

"It'll be okay, Ethan. You don't have to be afraid of my dad."

"Says you."

Dean sighed, but didn't respond. "Let's get these cuts cleaned up and bandaged before I call him in." He set to work again, cringing every time Ethan winced or jerked away from his hands.

TBC

Sorry it's been a bit slow lately, but I promise the action will pick up again soon! Any ideas? Anything you want more or less of? There will be more deanwhompage ahead!


	13. Just Like Butter

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Once Bobby and Sam had left, John decided to check on the boys himself. As he headed towards the door, he walked straight into Dean.

"Whoa! Where're you headed in such a hurry, sport?"

"To get you, actually."

"Everythin' alright?"

"Not exactly. Ethan has some pretty bad bruising and Bobby said you might want to check it for internal bleeding and broken ribs."

"That bad, huh?"

"He's a mess. I patched up his head and back the best I could. You know, his dad is a real piece of…"

"Dean…"

"Work. I dunno how he was still conscious when we got there."

"Maybe he wasn't."

"Huh?"

"Maybe he was just comin' back to consciousness. Didn't think to check for a concussion when he got here. Let's do that first."

"Yes, sir."

Dean led the way back into the room. Ethan was sitting up on the edge of the bed and managed to look even paler than before. It was obvious he still did not trust John in the least.

John decided to start with questions.

"Ethan, did you lose consciousness at any point today?"

"Maybe for a while. Not really sure. It's all kind of a blur between the last few hits and when Dean showed up."

"Do you feel nauseous and are your eyes sensitive to the light right now?"

"Only a little… on both accounts."

"Alright. Let's take a look." John took out the small penlight from the first aid kit. "Just look straight ahead for me." He watched Ethan's pupils dilate but their reactions were slightly delayed. The left pupil was also smaller than the right one. "Well, you do have a concussion, but it seems to be a mild one. We'll keep an eye on it just in case. Now, let's see about those bruises…"

With Dean's help, Ethan struggled to lift his shirt high enough for the damage to be seen once again. To John's credit, he looked unfazed by the intense bruising. Only his eyes gave away the fury he truly felt inside at the boy's father.

"Can you lay down flat for me, Ethan?"

The boy was extremely reluctant to do so, but he didn't want to anger anyone so he did as he was told. He bit his lip hard as his torn back made contact with the rough sheets.

"Have you thrown up or gone to the bathroom since this bruising occurred?" John felt awkward asking such a personal question, but it was important to finding out if there was internal bleeding hidden beneath the bruising.

"Huh? Uh… no. Why?"

"Cause I'd need to know if there was any blood that shouldn't have been there."

"Oh."

"You're not in shock which is a very good sign…"

"He was sort of out of it when I first found him though. He thought I was his dad," Dean chimed in.

"Okay." John gazed intently at the skin between the bruising and didn't find any areas paler than the boy himself or any blue spots indicating cyanosis. "I'm just gonna check your pulse now." He placed two fingers against Ethan's carotid artery and though his pulse was a bit fast due to nerves, it was steady. A good sign. "Does anything feel broken?"

"A few of my ribs hurt enough to be busted, but it might just be the deep bruising. Not sure."

"Okay. Well, I'm afraid there's only one way for us to figure that out for certain, but it's not gonna be very pleasant. Just try to stay still and breathe evenly, alright?"

Ethan swallowed hard and Dean placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. John began prodding down the boy's sternum and across each rib as gently as he could checking for any give to the bones. Pressing on the deep bruising was unavoidable seeing as it covered Ethan's entire chest. The kid's breath hitched and his jaw clenched a few times but he stuck it out like a champ. He reminded John of Dean. _No. Don't think like that! This boy means nothing to you, damn it. You can't afford to make stupid mistakes._

Once he surmised that Ethan's ribs were still in one piece, he moved his hands lower checking for internal damage in his abdomen. The boy tensed immediately, but made no move to stop him.

"Almost done, kiddo. Hang in there for me." When he was satisfied that the worst injuries he had received were all external and could be easily cared for, John relaxed a bit more. "Done. You got lucky this time, Ethan. There's no serious damage done. Give it a few days, and you'll be well on your way to recovery."

"Thank you. Can I sit up now?"

"If you want. We'll have to figure out the best way for you to get some sleep tonight. I'm guessin' you're not too comfortable on your back with those cuts?"

"Not so much."

"Well scoot up for now. Pizza should be here any minute."

Dean shot his dad a grateful look. He was afraid John would send the boy home instead of letting him stay the night. He had overheard some of the argument between his dad and Bobby earlier but decided it was best to play dumb once again. Apparently, John wasn't as cold as he pretended to be. When face to face with the injured boy, John just didn't have it in him to send him away.

Right on time, Bobby pulled up the driveway. Once again, John covered the door with his shotgun while Sam carried the pizza in and Bobby watched their sixes.

"Gentlemen, dinner is served," he announced when he made it through the doorway and closed it tightly behind him.

They all ate in relative silence that was only punctuated by the A/C kicking on and off. When they were all finished, John decided it'd be best if they turned in early. Bobby decided to take Ethan with him next door because the small room wasn't big enough to fit five people comfortably.

"G'night everyone," Bobby gruffed out, stifling a yawn. _I'm gettin' too old fer this._

"Bye, guys. And thanks for everything." Ethan's eyes lingered on Dean as he said the last part. He wasn't sure why, but he felt he wouldn't be seeing them for a long time once he returned home. He got the impression these people didn't stick to one place for very long.

"We'll see you in the mornin', Ethan," Dean reassured.

"Yeah, maybe." He wasn't sure how long he was going to be sticking around now. He knew Dean's father didn't want him hanging around. He was very good at reading people. Maybe he should just head home when they're all asleep to make it easier for everyone. Seeing as tomorrow was Friday, Emma would be coming home and he need to be there to protect her. With one last nod of gratitude to the family, he closed the door behind them and caught up with Bobby who ushered him into the other room.

In the Winchesters' room, John took one bed and Sam and Dean shared the other. They were used to it so it didn't bother them much, unless Sam was in one of those sprawling moods that made Dean feel as though he was sleeping next to a giant squid.

"Night, boys," John uttered softly as he shut off the light and climbed under his sheets.

"Night, dad," they answered in unison, making John smile. He swore they had some kind of mental connection sometimes. Before he drifted off, he found himself thinking ahead to the next day. He'd have to send the boy home, regardless of whether he wanted to or not.

If he were honest with himself, he did care a good deal about Ethan, but there was nothing he could do for the boy that wouldn't get his own boys into trouble. He could talk to Mrs. Prescott, but that was about it. But then what? Ethan would be sent to a group home? Hell, John didn't even know if the boy was an only child or not. He gave off an older brother vibe like Dean did, but he never heard him mention a younger sibling, but then again, he wasn't really listening.

Maybe telling Mrs. Prescott and Mrs. Noble about Ethan's circumstances would just cause the kid more trouble. If the boy wanted to speak up, then that was his choice. It was official that Ethan's dad was no hunter, and therefore no use to John and his quest. So come light, the boy was to be gone and the Winchesters would hit the road again to put some distance between themselves and the demon. With that settled, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Unsurprisingly, he found himself trapped in another nightmare. He found himself staring straight into a pair of gleeful yellow eyes.

"_They're mine, Johnny Boy. Nothin' you can do about it. You see, Sammy is practically mine already. He's got more of my blood in him than yours. And it's not like he's got any reason to want to stay with you. Once he crosses the line, Dean will follow obediently just like you trained him. I'll turn them to the dark side and you'll never see your boys again."_

"_That's not going to happen," John growled back, right in the bastard's face._

"_Yeah? And why's that, John? Because you're such a wonderful father to them?"_

"_That's none of your concern."_

"_Oh I'm not concerned. Not a bit. But you should be. I can offer them greatness, power, protection, and much more. What can you promise them?"_

"_Love."_

"_Aw. How sentimental of you. I'll love them just as much, I promise."_

Dean, who was on the verge of falling into the blissful void of sleep, was woken again by a guttural groan. He sat up silently, trying to pinpoint where it had come from. After a few seconds of complete silence, he heard it again. It sounded agitated. It sounded like...

"Dad?" he called out softly, but received no response. Dean looked to his right to see Sam curled in a ball and sleeping soundly, undisturbed by their father's torment. "_Dad_?" he tried again with a bit more strength behind the word.

John began to toss and turn, clearly battling inner demons. Dean had no idea how appropriate that really was. He slid carefully out of bed, taking great care not to wake his little brother, then padded over to the other bed with bare feet. The motel sign outside the window had enough light penetrating through the blinds for him to see his father's face clearly. His eyebrows were drawn together in either anger or pain and his whole body seemed to be shaking slightly. Was he sick? Or just a really bad dream? "Dad?" he tried once more as he inched closer.

"_You're incapable of love, you fugly abomination!"_

"_Funny, I was going to say the same about you. It's not like they won't have a choice, John. They can either work for me and have everything they ever wanted, or I can tear them to shreds right in front of you. It'll have to be slow I'm afraid. I do love to watch them squirm. Feel my claws sink deep into their skin as easy as butter, taste the iron in their blood, soak up every beautiful scream of agony…" _

_Just as John was wishing he had a weapon to wipe that blissful smirk off the demon's face, he felt a heavy hilt held snuggly to the small of his back by his waistband. A sadistic smile spread over his face and he slowly pulled it free of its hiding place. He spoke to keep the demon distracted._

"_You will stay away from my boys, do you understand me?"_

_John wasn't stupid enough to think his knife was enough to kill something this powerful, but he didn't care. It was a dream, right? He could do anything he wanted. This was __**his**__ dream, and he was going to control it. If he wanted that knife to be every bit as deadly as the colt, then that was how it was going to go down._

"_Or what exactly? You can't stop me, John."_

"_Wanna bet?"_

_John surged forward with the knife, sinking it deep into the creature before him._

"_Like I said," the demon gasped, "smooth as butter…" Then the demon was laughing._

John knew something was wrong when he heard a small gasp of pain. He felt warm liquid dripping down his hands and his eyes flew open. Still disoriented by the dream, he squinted in the dark, the knife hilt still heavy in his hands. As his heart froze in his chest, he heard the soft whimper that felt like a knife through his _own_ body.

"Dad…?"

"Dean? Dean!"

TBC

I'm so cruel! Sorry to leave you like this, but I promise I'll update again soon! Reviews are still welcome! And Happy 4th everyone!!

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for sticking with me through all this drama! Haha. If you have read my other stories, I tried something that worked out really cool so I'd like to try it again if you'll all help me! I'd like to see how wide-spread this story is getting, so if it isn't too personal, I'd love to know what countries you're all from! I'm from the U.S. Just a fun experiment, but if you don't want to say, a regular review is fine too! You all rock!


	14. Reaching Out

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

"Dean? Dean!" John's instant reaction had him releasing the knife and backing away, horrified by what he had done. "Oh god…"

"Dad…?" he whimpered softly again, glancing down in shock at the knife that protruded from his abdomen. He looked back up to lock eyes with his father as time seemed to stand still. John watched a myriad of emotions pass across his son's face from betrayal and disbelief to acceptance. Then Dean's legs gave out from underneath him.

John surged forward instantly and grabbed his son under the arms. He pulled him forward and gently laid him down on his bed. "Dean? Son?"

Dean let out a choked sob as John shifted his body a bit further onto the mattress so he wouldn't slide off. Sam's unconscious mind picked up on the sound instantly. He rolled over to where Dean was supposed to be and cracked his eyes open.

"Dean? What's wrong?" Instead of hearing his brother's offhanded remark about everything being peachy keen, he heard his father's panicked tone.

"Stay with me, Dean! Keep your eyes open!"

He sat up instantly, still trying to get his bearings. "Dad? What's going on?" Sam reached over to the table lamp and flipped the switch. The second his eyes adjusted, he was by his brother's side, pale as the sheets they were sleeping on. Or at least, as pale as they _used _to be before they were stained a deep red.

John forced himself to snap into soldier mode. There was no time to panic in a situation like this. "Sam, go wake up Bobby. Tell him I need him here now with his med kit. Hurry!"

Sam, who had been staring in horror at his brother's convulsing form, jumped at his father's last order and was shaken out of his frozen state. He raced to the door, afraid to look behind him and to acknowledge that this was really happening.

He raced to the next room and pounded fiercely on the door. "Bobby! Open the door, please! We need you!"

Sam heard a loud crash followed by cursing before the door was thrown open. Thankfully, Bobby had stayed in his clothes from earlier so Sam wasn't scarred for life. The older man was hopping in the doorway and rubbing his knee which he had apparently whacked in his haste to answer the door.

"Sam? What on Earth is goin'…"

"It's Dean! He's hurt! We need your med kit! Please hurry!"

Without another word, Bobby raced back to the bathroom, grabbed his kit, and was back at the door with a confused and worried Ethan on his heals. He had heard every word from his bed and having also slept in his clothes, had only to throw on his shoes and he was ready to go.

"Lead the way, Sam," Bobby ordered and the three of them rushed back to the other room. John had gathered towels from the bathroom and was trying to stem the flow of blood around the knife. He knew better than to pull the knife out. Dean's shock had apparently passed and he was writhing on the bed, trying to push his father's probing hands away.

John looked up and relief spread over him when he saw his trusted friend. "Thank god…"

"What the hell happened, John?" Bobby demanded as he started pulling tools from his kit.

"I was dreamin' again, Bobby. I thought he was the demon… The knife was under my pillow and I…" John broke off, covering his mouth with his hand, oblivious to the fact that it was covered in his child's blood.

Luckily for John, Ethan missed the part about the demon. He wasn't so lucky when it came to who was to blame though.

"_You _did this to him? After all this time he's spent vouching for you?! How could you do…!"

"Hey! It's not like I did it on purpose! He should have known better than to wake…"

"Oh that's rich! Blame the injured kid for getting himself _stabbed_!"

"Can we _please _focus on Dean for once? You two can Q and A later!" Bobby scolded.

"Has anyone called 911 yet? He needs to go to the hospital!" Ethan shouted.

"We can't go to hospitals. Too many questions," Sam replied quietly.

Needless to say, Ethan was thrown for a loop. "What is _wrong _with you people? He's going to _die_!"

"No he damn well isn't!" John shouted back.

Through his pain-filled haze, Dean recognized his father's voice. He sounded angry. Dean must have screwed up again.

"D-dad…" Dean gasped out, fighting to stay conscious. John quickly sat on the bed next to his son and placed a hand against the side of his face, turning Dean's head towards him.

"I'm here, bud…" John had tears streaming down his face, both from anger and guilt. What had he done? He had played right into the demon's hands. He might have killed his son. If Dean had been just a few inches shorter… Or if it had been Sam instead… John couldn't let himself think like that. He had to focus on the here and now, and save his boy.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry…" Dean forced out between clenched teeth that were starting to chatter. The temperature of the room seemed to be dropping very quickly for some reason.

"Sorry? For what, Dean?" John was completely perplexed by his son's words.

"F-for whatever I d-did…"

John felt like he was going to throw up. "You didn't do anything, son. This was _my_ fault. I'm the one who's sorry. Please hang in there, Dean."

"I'm s-sorry…" Dean's whole body was beginning to shake now and tears were streaming steadily from his clouded eyes.

"Damn it, he's goin' into shock. Elevate his legs, John!" Bobby ordered while he tried to figure out how best to help Dean.

"What?" John glanced up looking confused as though he didn't understand English anymore.

"Oh fer heaven's sake, snap out of it, Winchester! Yer boy needs you, now FOCUS!"

John shook himself mentally. _Elevate legs to help prevent shock… Right…_

He stood abruptly, gathering the pillows from his bed.

"Sam, I'm goin' to hold Dean's legs up. I need you to pile these pillows up underneath them, okay?"

"Is he going to make it, dad?"

"Of course he is." _Please let him make it…_ "Ready?"

Sam nodded and picked up the first pillow. John swallowed hard, knowing he was going to cause his son more pain by trying to help him. God, he was going to rip that damn demon to shreds when he got his hands on it.

Ethan stepped forward quickly, gathering Dean's floundering hands into his own to prevent him from pulling the knife out in his shocked state. "I got you, Dean. Hang in there, man."

John got a strong grip underneath Dean's knees and lifted them high enough to stick the two plump pillows beneath them. Dean cried out at the unexpected movement. He hadn't heard a word that John or Bobby had said earlier. He couldn't focus on anything past the pain. It felt as though his midsection was on fire, and every movement he made, whether an involuntary spasm or an unpleasant jostling from his dad, it felt as though someone was shoving glass shards inside him.

He almost threw up when he saw Bobby snap on latex gloves. Dean began to panic and the fear and adrenaline helped to block some of the pain receptors in his mind. He tried to pick up his head and protest that he was fine but the slight movement made his head spin. Small hands that he recognized as Sam's guided his head back down to the mattress.

"Stay down, bro."

Once John had placed Dean's knees up on the pillows, he released his son's legs and moved back up the bed to be across from Bobby.

Ethan, sensing his new friend's increased agitation, gently moved Dean's hands up to pin them above his head so that he would be easier to restrain and his arms would not be in the way of the men trying to help him. He tightened his grip every time Dean struggled, trying to break free.

"Easy, Dean. I can't let you go, man."

"I'm sorry! Please!" Dean shouted, trying to understand what he had done wrong enough to deserve this kind of pain. The shock from the blood loss was clouding his mind.

"It's not your fault. It's gonna be okay. Shhh…"

Sam noticed his brother was sweating profusely and used on of the towels John brought out to dab at his forehead, needing to be doing _something_ helpful. Dean turned towards the friendly touch, so different from the others. He recognized it, but he didn't know from where.

"Mom?" he whimpered, his vision getting cloudier by the minute.

Sam gaped at his father, clearly asking what he should do. John had stopped dead in his tracks at his eldest's pleading tone. _I really need your help right now, Mary. Dean needs you. Please…_

"Stay with me, John," Bobby demanded, noticing that his friend was starting to go back into his own shell to avoid what he had done. "Hand me another towel, will ya?"

With robotic movements, John did as he was told and Bobby pressed the towel tightly down over the previous two that were already soaked through.

"I need to see what I'm workin' with here. Scissors?"

John rummaged through the kit and handed over the small pair of scissors that were used strictly for the purpose of destroying clothing. Bobby carefully cut through Dean's shirt around the knife and up to his neckline before parting the two sides and getting a good look at the damage done. He pressed the towels even harder against the wound as it was still seeping out of control.

Dean gasped at the added pressure and his breathing stuttered for a few seconds until he could get it reasonably back under control.

"The bleedin's not stoppin'. We're gonna have to take the knife out, and sooner rather than later."

"But he'll bleed out!" John raged.

"He'll bleed out if we _don't,_ John! We need to seal it up!"

"Mr. Prescott."

Everyone's heads, with the exception of Dean's, turned questioningly towards Sam.

"Call Mr. Prescott. He can help!"

"Now _that's _a useful idea. Come here, John. I need you to pinch the wound closed as much as possible around the knife. If that towel gets soaked through, add another one on top. Do NOT take off the other ones. Got it?"

"Got it." John stepped forward in complete soldier mode. He couldn't afford to fall to pieces. His son deserved better than that. He did as Bobby instructed, blocking out Dean's pleas for the pain to stop.

Bobby walked into the other room so he could hear better and drew out his cell phone. He was the most collected person around right now, so he elected himself to make the call. Two rings later and Roger answered.

"Hello? Roger Prescott speaking."

"Roger, it's Bobby. We've got a bit of a situation here that could use your assistance."

"Bobby? It's four in the morning! What's happening?"

"Dean's been stabbed in the upper abdomen. There's too much blood to see what the damage is. I have no idea if it nicked any organs or not."

"Wait, stabbed? By whom? Where are you guys?"

"At the motel. Your wife has the information. It'll take too long to explain who, how, and why. He's lost a lot of blood already. How soon can you get here?"

"Hang on…" Bobby could hear the muffled voices of the Prescotts as his wife passed on the address. "Uh… 'bout five minutes?"

"Make it two. Door'll be open. Thanks, doc."

"Hey, it's my job. I'll be there as soon as I can. Keep pressure on the wound until I get there."

Both men hung up and Bobby moved swiftly back to Dean's side. The boy was still squirming valiantly, which, as horrible as it sounded, was a relief to Bobby. He was afraid that if Dean passed out, there wouldn't be much chance of him waking again.

Bobby surged forward and placed two fingers against Dean's carotid artery, finding that his pulse was a bit weak for comfort. He moved further down and checked his femoral artery to make sure the blood was moving past the wound to his lower extremities.

It was a bit harder to find this pulse point, and he had to press much more forcefully than he would have liked, but he eventually found the sluggish beat.

"Dean? Can you hear me, son?" Bobby dipped his latex fingers into some alcohol and began gently disinfecting the area around the wound. All Dean offered in return was a small whimper. Bobby took the penlight and checked each pupil, finding them slightly dilated but responsive non-the-less. He was about to check Dean's breathing when the front door burst open revealing a wide awake and ready for action Doctor Prescott.

"Two minutes exactly. Not bad, doc," Bobby stated, checking his watch.

"Might have broken a few laws but I'm here. What do we know so far, Bobby?"

"He's barely responsive, seems to be in a state of shock, possibly hallucinatin', pupils are a bit dilated, pulse is sluggish but present both above and below the wound, bleedin' is persistent, and I was just about to check his breathin'."

"Ever think of becoming a doctor, Bobby? That's pretty damn good." Roger moved in to take over, plugging his stethoscope in his ears. "Dean? Blink twice if you're still with us, kiddo." He watched Dean's eyes intently as he listened to his lungs and heart.

It took longer than Roger would have liked, but Dean managed the small request. "Good boy. We're gonna get you better, son. Just hang in there, okay?" Dean blinked twice again, keeping his jaw firmly locked for fear that he might throw up and embarrass himself again in front of everyone. The fact that this fear was a bit ridiculous never crossed his clouded mind.

Mrs. Prescott walked in seconds behind her husband, carrying bags of solution and his own medical kit just in case.

"You just can't catch a break, can you, Sweetie?" She moved to her husband's side, ready for instructions.

John moved up to be with his son and to get out of the doctor's way. He ran his fingers lovingly through Dean's sweaty hair, trying to distract him from what was going on around him and the pain.

Sam continued drying his brother's face, both from tears and from sweat. Ethan kept his tight grip on Dean's wrists, rubbing his thumbs soothingly over the backs of his hands and whispering words of encouragement. Bobby ran to the bathroom to grab more towels, and Mr. Prescott readied himself for yet another long night in his line of work. This time, it was a bit more personal for him than his usual walk-in patients.

"Sorry, kiddo. This ain't gonna be fun for either of us."

TBC

A/N: Wow! Thank you all sooo much for responding to my last request! I've gotten hits from the UK, Germany, France, Australia, Canada, and a few locals of the US! Please keep them coming if you haven't responded yet! It's a great incentive to keep writing! On a different note, everything medical I use in my stories I research ahead of time so they are in fact standard operating procedures and not just random ramblings from my own head!! There will be more medical jargon to come!


	15. Relief

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

"Hun, can you please set up two large bore IV lines for me? Use the isotonic normal saline and ringer's lactate."

"You got it." Mrs. Prescott dragged over the coat hanger from in front of the door and used it to hook two IV bags on that had been prepared ahead of time. "Ethan, Sweetie, we're gonna have to lower his arms back to his sides. Can you keep the left one down for me? And John, can you hold the right?"

When both of them were in place and keeping Dean restrained, she carefully inserted one needle into the crook of each arm and taped them in place. Dean did little more than flinch in response. His struggles had diminished greatly. Then she turned the drips on.

"Done," she reported, ready for further instructions.

"Excellent. Dean? Are you still with me, Pal?" Mr. Prescott studied Dean's face for any reaction the boy might be able to muster. Dean blinked once feebly, but not a second time. "Dean? Can you blink twice for me?" He frowned as Dean blinked once again and his eyes were losing focus. "I need you to stay with me, Dean. Come on, son."

Roger checked Dean's pupils again, finding them less cooperative this second time around. He snapped his fingers in front of Dean's face, but the boy didn't flinch or withdraw from him. Careful to avoid the wound in his side, Roger pressed his knuckles harshly against the midsection of Dean's sternum, hoping to elicit a pain response, then began grinding them back and forth in a rotating pattern. Dean didn't so much as twitch.

He quickly switched to the trapezius squeeze. He felt along the skin that linked Dean's neck and left shoulder until he found the flat muscle and squeezed and twisted it. After a few intense seconds, Dean's eyes snapped back to focus and he tried desperately to free his hands and remove the painful stimulus.

Roger released the muscle and rubbed the spot soothingly. "Welcome back, kiddo. I need you to stay focused, okay? Can you blink twice for me?"

Finally, Dean did as he was told and a collective breath was exhaled from the anxious onlookers.

"Alright. Let's keep going." Roger scanned his eyes over Dean's head and face, checking for any other damage or cerebrospinal fluid that could indicate further trauma. Finding none, he ran his fingers over Dean's neck, searching for any spots of tenderness. "Okay. Can we turn him on his side gently? I need to see his back for a moment."

The plan was to lift Dean's left side so John could keep him levered from the right and give Roger plenty of room to work, but the second Ethan released his arm, Dean tried to scramble away from his apparent tormentors. He seemed trapped in an altered state of mind.

John instantly seized Dean's shoulders and pinned him back to the bed, his heart breaking with every plea that left his child's lips.

"Argh! Please stop! I'm sorry! Please! Won't do it again! Let go!"

"Shh… Dean, listen to me. You need to stay still. We're tryin' to help, kiddo." John swallowed hard to dislodge the lump in his throat. _It should be me suffering all this pain, not Dean. Not my baby boy._

"Won't talk… won't talk…" Dean repeated, his voice getting softer each time.

Not understanding his son's new mantra, John slid onto the bed and pulled Dean tightly against his chest, making sure he didn't jostle the knife. Dean put up a valiant effort for one who was so weak from blood loss, but his father didn't let him go. He would never let him go.

Mr. Prescott seized the opportunity and checked Dean's back for a possible exit wound or bruising from internal bleeding but was relieved to find the knife apparently hadn't gone that deep. Dean registered the cold fingers on his back and clung tightly to the warmer arms encircling him with a small whimper.

"Good. You can put him back down, John." Though he was reluctant to do so, John did as he was told and he and Ethan immediately resumed their holds on him.

In his panicked attempted to break free, Dean had kicked the pillows off the bed. Sam dabbed at his face once more before moving to the foot of the bed, picking up Dean's knees, and holding them tightly on his lap. This way he was able to help restrain Dean and keep his legs elevated.

Next, the doc began examining Dean's abdomen for distension, or swelling, and then palpated the boy's inner organs, searching for rigidity or tenderness. He put his stethoscope back on and after checking Dean's breathing once more as a follow up, he listened for bowel sounds to make sure everything was still in working order.

He shot a quick and relieved grin to John. "It's a miracle, but it doesn't seem like any of his organs have been punctured. Dean is one lucky kid."

John frowned at the news. _I doubt it has anything to do with miracles, and everything to do with the demon. He wants Dean. He wouldn't allow him to die, just turn him against me for hurting him._

"Lucky?! He's been stabbed!" Sam raged, tightening his grip on Dean's knees when he felt his brother shudder.

"I'm just saying this could have ended a lot worse, Sam. Now, John, normally we'd have a stool and urine sample taken as a final precaution against internal bleeding, but seeing as how agitated he is right now, I'd rather not make matters worse. I have yet to find any reason to suspect internal bleeding, so we'll cross that bridge later if we come to it. We're going to have to remove the knife and repair as much damage as possible without him losing too much more blood. There is a good chance he will pass out before I am finished, so I will need you to try and keep him awake as long as possible. I know it's not the most pleasant job in the world, but the longer he's conscious, the better chance he'll have of recovery. Ethan, I'd like you to switch out with Bobby cause we'll need a tad bit more muscle. He's going to struggle when I start removing the knife, so I'll need you two to keep him as still as possible. Ready?"

Bobby slid into place, gripping Dean's arm tightly both above and below his IV and John did the same on the other side. Ethan moved down to help Sam hold Dean's legs and Mrs. Prescott went to the head of the bed to try and comfort Dean and help keep him awake. She placed a steadying hand on his fevered chest and used the other to stroke through his matted hair soothingly.

Receiving nods from all those involved, Mr. Prescott took a steadying breath and wrapped his hand around the knife hilt. "Let's get this over with." He began sliding the knife out inch by inch, taking care not to jostle it side to side and make the injury worse.

Dean's entire body tensed before he started thrashing wildly, giving his restrainers a run for their money.

Because Dean was getting increasingly violent, Roger had to back away a few times so the boy wouldn't slice himself completely open. "Dean? Stay still now. I know it hurts, but I've got to get this done quickly. Everyone, I need you to hold him tighter!"

Dean let out a blood curdling scream as the knife was pulled the last few inches from his abdomen and blood started to flow in greater abundance. Sam instinctively covered his ears, unable to listen to his brother's obvious pain, leaving Ethan to hold Dean's legs in place.

Wasting no time, Mr. Prescott quickly inserted two latex covered and disinfected fingers into the wound to make sure all the organs were where they belonged and were in one piece.

Dean's body arched up off the bed as he flung his head back and continued to scream at the top of his lungs. He felt as though someone was jabbing a red hot fire poker into his gut. The fire was spreading through his veins and into the rest of his body. He used all the strength he had left attempting to dislodge the invading weapon but the arms of his captors refused to grant him the relief.

Sam's eyes slammed shut as well the second Mr. Prescott's fingers vanished inside his brother. Minor gouges he could deal with. Broken limbs, concussions, claw marks… easy enough. But a gaping hole in his brother's abdomen? His mind refused to register it. Without even realizing it, he began softly humming Metallica to block everything else out.

When the doctor finally removed his fingers, the boy fell back to the bed unconscious. John didn't have the heart to try and bring him around again, but Mrs. Prescott knew the importance of it and began slapping his cheek gently to rouse him.

"Dean? Hunny, I need you to wake up. Open your eyes, Dean."

Knowing his wife was a very capable woman, Mr. Prescott stayed focused on the wound and began stitching it back up. Whenever the blood started to impede his view, he would use gauze strips soaked in alcohol to clean it away and sterilize the area at the same time.

As dangerous as it was for Dean to be unconscious, he was glad the boy managed to get a few seconds away from the pain. It was a rare occasion that he was forced to do immediate surgery without prep time and the proper anesthetics. He prayed he would never have to do it again.

While Dean was forced to crawl his way back to consciousness, he could feel the pinch/tug of someone stitching him back up. The pain registered, but all he could manage was a feeble moan of protest. There was no fight left in him.

No longer need to restrain the thoroughly exhausted Dean, Bobby strode quickly to the now rocking Sam who had yet to open his eyes, unblock his ears, or stop humming. He attempted to ease his hands away from his ears to inform Sam that it was basically over now, but Sam struggled against him and hummed louder. Without giving it a second thought, Bobby wrapped one strong arm around the boy's back and the other around the back of his head and pulled the distraught kid into his chest, hugging him tightly.

Sam struggled at first, wanting nothing more than to keep rocking and to stay within the safe haven of his own mind. Then he broke down. Memories of the past few days flooded his mind, focusing on Dean's recent injuries, and he never felt more useless to his big brother than he did right now. Not once was he able to save his brother from an injury lately. Not once had he protected Dean as Dean had always protected him. He failed his brother in the worst way possible, and his eleven-year-old mind couldn't handle it.

"Easy, Sam. I've got you. It's gonna be okay. Dean's gonna be fine…" Realizing Sam had yet to open his eyes, Bobby figured it was because he wasn't ready to see what Dean was going through. Without another word, he scooped Sam up into his arms and carried him into the other room.

John watched them go, wondering if he should be out there with Sam instead of Bobby, but then decided he was needed more here. He intertwined his fingers with his eldest's limp hand, giving him something to squeeze if he mustered up enough energy to fight against the pain again. He used his other hand to dry Dean's sweaty brow once more, then soothed away the pained wrinkles on his forehead.

"You're goin' to be alright, Dean. Dad's here."

"D-dad…?" Dean groaned, trying to stop his lower lip from trembling as he spoke.

"Yeah, Bud. It's me."

In his half groggy state, Dean felt he needed to prove how brave he had been in the enemy's hands.

"I didn't break, dad. Didn't tell them anything." The small smile he managed turned into a grimace as the doc put in the last stitch. John had no idea what his boy was talking about.

"Who, Dean?" He immediately suspected a supernatural entity was involved and harassing his son while he was most vulnerable. John gazed warily around the room, looking for the foe.

Roger poured disinfectant over the new stitches and carefully taped down a few layers of gauze over them. Finally, the boy could get some rest.

"I fought hard, dad. Burned me… Hurts. Thanks… for savin' me." His raw voice was lowered to a whisper as he began giving in to the exhaustion again.

Having his son thank him after he had stabbed him was like the final nail in the coffin for John. He shook his head sadly, not even bothering to hold back the tears that filled his eyes. Before he could respond, Dean's automatic big brother question was asked.

"Sam okay?"

"Sam's fine, Dean."

"They didn't get 'im?"

"He's with Bobby, safe and sound."

"Good."

"What's he talkin' about? Who's _they_?" Ethan interrupted the father/son chat.

John felt like he was going to throw up again. He finally figured it out, the metaphoric light bulb clicking on over his head. "He's talking about us. He thought we were torturing him."

"Christ… He'll be okay now, won't he?" The last part was more directed to the doctor.

"As long as we keep an eye out for infection, he should be just fine, but he won't be moving from this bed anytime soon. Which reminds me… could you all please leave the room for a few minutes? Bedridden means no bathroom runs either, so there're a few things that need to be taken care of if you catch my drift."

John and Ethan flinched at the same time. The doc didn't need to be any more detailed than that. Ethan gently lowered Dean's knees back onto the pillows once he retrieved them from the ground, then patted Dean's leg before heading into the other room. Mrs. Prescott began cleaning up the medical supplies, and John reluctantly disengaged his hand from Dean's, then kissed his boy on the forehead and walked out of the room in search of his youngest. He paused in the doorway as the doc called him back.

"John? Don't stray too far on me. Do you know if you and your son share the same blood type?"

"Yeah, we do. Sammy too."

"Excellent."

"It's been a lot of help over the years considering we can't go to hospitals a lot of the time."

"I'm sure it has. I'd like to give him a transfusion in a little while to help speed up his recovery a little if you're up for it."

"Anything you need, doc." With a grateful nod, John headed towards the kitchen where he could still hear the muffled sobs of his youngest. _I'm comin', Sammy_.

Roger turned to the now sleeping Dean. "Alright, kiddo. Just you and me now. Let's see about getting you some relief, shall we?"

TBC

That's _one_ procedure I won't go into detail on! You'll have to use your imagination or wince and pretend it never happened. Up to you! Any other suggestions or last requests before I start tying things up? Has everything made sense so far?


	16. Empty Promises and Feelings

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

John found Bobby sitting at the kitchen table, cradling Sam on his lap and rocking them both gently. Bobby had never been a father, but he seemed to be doing it a lot better than John lately. At times, John wondered if his boys would be better off in Bobby's care than his own. Even if they would be, he knew he couldn't leave them anyway.

He sat at the table across from his friend and youngest. "How is he, Bobby?" he asked softly.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" He continued to rock Sam in his arms. Bobby was opening the door for John to be the father again, but John wasn't so sure he knew how to anymore.

He cleared his throat. "Sam? Sammy? You alright, kiddo?"

Sam shook his head before burying it in Bobby's shirt so he wouldn't have to look at his father.

"Talk to me, Sammy." John hoped it didn't sound as desperate as he thought it did.

"You promised," Sam stated softly into Bobby's shirt. John wasn't sure he heard right but Bobby was staring daggers at him which made him pretty sure he hadn't heard wrong.

"Promised what?" God… he knew where this was going and it wasn't going to be pretty.

"You promised you wouldn't hurt him again." Sam released Bobby's shirt and turned hate-filled eyes on his father. "You promised, and you lied."

"Sammy, it was an accident. I didn't mean…"

"You never mean to, do you?! But it doesn't stop you, does it?!"

"Sam, I…"

"No! Stay away from my brother! And stay away from me!" Sam's face was so flushed he was as red as a tomato as he stormed off into the bathroom again and slammed the door behind him.

"Why didn't you just talk to me, John? We might have been able to prevent all this."

"You think I don't know that, Bobby?! You think I wouldn't give anything to turn back time and make sure that _never _happened?! Christ… They're gonna get killed if they stay around me too long."

"Not sure I like where yer head's at, John. What're you sayin'?"

"I'm saying I'll train them until I know they'll be alright on their own, and then I'll put as many miles as I can between us."

"Yer gonna ditch them?! After everythin' that's happened so far?"

"Not until they're ready, Bobby! I just… I can't risk somethin' like this happening again. They're my only weak spot and you know it. If we all stay together, the demon will pick us off one by one. It's for their own good."

"Bullshit. You just don't want to face what happened and you know it! You leave these boys and I will fill your ass up with so much rock salt you could melt a block of ice by coughin' on it! You're their _father_, and they will _always _need you!"

"Bobby, why can't you just see…!"

"Uh, fellas? Am I interrupting something?" The doc stood awkwardly in the doorway.

John took a steadying breath to calm himself. "Nothin' we can't finish later. What do you need?"

"Dean's ready for the blood transfusion if…"

"I'll do it." Everyone's head swung to face Sam who had cracked the bathroom door enough to hear the doc's latest update.

"That's very nice of you, Sam, but I think it'd be best if your dad…"

"He's not going anywhere near my brother."

"Sam, you hate needles," John gruffed in annoyance.

"I said I'll do it."

Roger looked to John for confirmation who threw his hands up in the air exasperatedly. "Fine! Knock yourself out! I'm gonna go get coffee." He grabbed his keys from the table and headed for the door.

Bobby grabbed his upper arm before he could step outside and whispered harshly near his ear. "You better come back, Winchester."

John broke free of the grip and continued outside, longing for the escape in his trusty Impala. She had never failed him yet. John sped out of the driveway, anxious to get away before he said or did something to make the situation worse.

When he was a few miles away, he caught his reflection in the rearview mirror and saw a bloody handprint across his mouth. He paled instantly as he glanced down and saw his hands that were tightly wrapped around the steering wheel were also blood red, and his clothing was stained in multiple places. Stained with his son's blood. So much blood.

He pulled over to the side of the road and leapt out of the car just in time as he collapsed to the ground and vomited. Dean's blood was literally and figuratively on his hands. Once he regained control of his stomach, he crawled back to the Impala and pulled himself up onto his seat, then fished around in the glove compartment for hand wipes. No matter how hard he scrubbed, he couldn't get the blood stains off his skin. For the first time in a long time, John Winchester allowed himself to give in and completely break down, hidden from prying eyes by the darkness of the night.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Meanwhile, Sam walked timidly by the doc's side back into the other room. He wasn't sure he was ready to see his brother so fragile again, but Dean needed him, and he'd be damned if he let his brother down again.

"Alright, Sam. Take a seat right here and I'll get you two hooked up."

Sam did as he was told and swallowed hard when Roger unwrapped the sterilized needle.

"You're really brave for doing this, Sam," Mr. Prescott stated, hoping to sooth the boy's nerves a little.

"Dean'd do it for me." Sam's eyes rested on Dean's face. He seemed much more peaceful now that he was asleep. "Is he really going to be okay?"

"He'll be just fine in time. Don't you worry about it. Look, I know it's none of my business, but you might want to cut your father some slack. I'm sure he already feels really guilty about what happened."

Sam blatantly ignored his advice. "So how long will this take?"

The doc relented. "Safely? About four hours." Sam turned an ugly shade of green. "I'd like to transfer a unit if you're up to it. I understand that this equipment looks a bit primitive, but I swear it still works. If at any point you feel ill or lightheaded, just speak up and we'll disconnect you, alright?" Sam nodded, but inside he knew he wouldn't say a word. Dean needed this, and he was going to give it to his brother no matter what happened to him in return. "Okay, Sam. You're going to feel a small pinch…"

Sam hissed as he felt the needle enter the crook of his arm. He refused to look until it was all over in case he saw the needle and passed out before he had the chance to help Dean.

After a few seconds of indecision concerning where to insert Dean's needle considering both of his arms were already in use, Roger slipped the needle into Dean's neck. This way, the blood would get to his heart faster. The only good alternative would have been near the groin and he doubted Dean would appreciate that very much, especially since he already had the catheter to contend with.

"Ready, Sam?"

Sam nodded and looked away as Roger opened both ends of the tubing, allowing the blood to flow between the two brothers.

"Alright. That's all I can do for now. Just get comfy, kiddo, and let me know if it gets to be too much, okay?"

Sam nodded absently again and rested his forehead on the bed next to Dean's knee. He ran his fingers gently over the back of his brother's hand. "Please be okay, Dean…" he whispered so only his brother could hear. Dean's hand twitched, making Sam smile sadly and grip his brother's hand a bit tighter.

Ethan stood in the doorway, watching the brothers with a sense of sorrow and longing. He had only known them for a day but he felt as though he could call them both his brothers. He still wasn't sure what to make of John though. Bobby seemed like a cool enough guy.

He jumped when a heavy hand rested on his shoulder and turned his head to find Bobby with the same sorrow in his eyes.

"Those boys are one of a kind," he stated sadly.

"Yeah, I'm startin' to get that impression. So what's the deal with _your_ brother?"

"Brother? Oh! John? He uh… he's been through a lot is all. Lost his wife 'bout eleven years ago and his biggest fear is the same'll happen with his boys."

"Thanks to him, it almost did," Ethan growled with a bit more anger than he had intended.

"When you live our kind of lives, son, you'd understand that nothin' is what it seems. It's been a long time since John's come up from a dream swingin'. His mind was trapped in a dark place, and he broke out the only way he knew how. It was just unfortunate that Dean had been there to break his fall. Far be it for me to defend John, but you never touch a sleepin' man when you know he's armed."

"He was probably just tryin' to help! You can't condemn him for that!"

"That's the problem. Dean's always tryin' ta help without any regard to his own safety. I've tried to get through that thick skull of his many times, but he just doesn't seem to get that he means a lot to a lot of people. To at least three people, he means the whole world: Sammy, John, and me."

"And me. He saved my life, even knowing the consequences if he got caught. If my dad had woken up, he could have killed him."

"Trust me, son. Your dad would've been dead before he laid a finger on 'im."

"You know… You don't have to wait for a reason if you don't want to." Ethan's eyes dropped to the floor, afraid he might be overstepping his boundaries.

Bobby lifted the boy's chin again and turned him so they were face to face. "What do you mean by that exactly?"

"I mean… He's never gonna stop lookin' for me. I've got no place to run, and no place to hide. But if you took him out of the equation…"

"Are you askin' me to kill yer dad?" Bobby was horrified to even think a child could hate his father so much as to wish him dead.

"I don't have much, but I'll give you anything you want. I'll do anything, just please… I can't keep livin' like this." A tear slid down the boy's cheek, breaking Bobby's heart.

"Ethan, we don't go around killin' people fer sport. I'm sorry, son."

"Well what if I provoked him first? Would you kill him if he attacked me?" There was hope in his voice, but Bobby had to shatter it.

"As much as I'd like to protect you, we really can't get involved like that. It's too risky, and I've got to think of my own boys."

"Your own boys? You have kids too?"

"Sure do. Sam and Dean. I may not be a biological father to them, but they're the closest things I've got. It's late. Why don't you get some sleep."

Ethan nodded sadly and curled up on the empty bed. He pushed all his building emotions away until he felt empty, and then he wondered if that feeling was any better. He was asleep before he could decide.

TBC

So much angst!! Please review!!


	17. Foreboding Visit

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Roger waited until three and a half hours had past before interrupting the Winchester boys again. If Sam had needed him sooner, he would have called. When he walked into the room, he moved quietly because it seemed both boys were asleep now. He couldn't blame them. They had had a really rough night after all.

He slid quietly to Sam's side and looked from one boy to the next. Dean seemed less pale thankfully. He listened to Dean's heart rate and was pleased with the results. Things were looking up so he decided to shut the transfusion down earlier than planned. Sam would be relieved to hear that when he woke up. Speaking of…

"Sam? Son?" Roger shook Sam gently by the shoulder, but the jostling had the now pale boy slumping right off the chair. Or at least, it would have if the doc hadn't been standing right there to grab him. He made sure there was enough tubing to set Sam safely on the floor without ripping either boy's needle out, then lowered him carefully to the floor.

"Damn it, kiddo. You were supposed to tell me when it was too much…" He patted Sam's face hard, trying to elicit a reaction from the drained boy. Roger quickly shut off the valves to stop the transfusion and then disconnected both boys. He taped gauze over Dean's neck and did the same to Sam's arm, as well as holding it up in the air by his wrist to help stop the bleeding.

Sam gave a feeble groan and rolled his head to the side.

"Sam? Can you hear me?"

He responded without opening his eyes. "Did it work? Is he better?"

"Yeah, kiddo. You helped him a lot, but you hurt yourself in the process. Why didn't you call for me?"

"Just wanted him to be okay." Sam attempted sitting up but the room spun and the doc helped guide him back down to the ground. He groaned again. "Dizzy…"

"It's a common side effect. Don't worry. You'll be as good as new after we get you some food and drink. Bobby?"

"You called? What in the hell…" Bobby paused when he noticed Sam on the ground. "What happened? Is he alright?"

"He'll be fine. Do you have any orange juice or Gatorade around here?"

"There's a mini-mart just down the street. I'll go get some. Need anythin' else?"

"Maybe some fruit if they have anything fresh? It'll help get Sammy here back on his feet."

"Fruit and juice it is. Be right back."

Bobby was out the door before anyone could say another word.

"Come on, Sam. Let's get you off the floor." Thankful that Dean's bed was queen sized, Roger helped Sam move slowly towards the bed and then laid him down next to his brother.

Slipping the stethoscope under Sam's T-shirt, he listened to the boy's heart that was pumping on overtime but not dangerously so. _Thank god…_

"Alright, son. Don't move from this bed until I say it's okay, understand?"

"Not a problem." Sam's eyes were already drifting shut. He was exhausted. Roger smiled and patted him gently on the arm before checking Dean's wound. He was relieved to find there was no infection as of yet and the skin already seemed to be trying to heal itself. _With all the times you boys get injured, it's no wonder your bodies are trained to heal quickly_. He taped a clean bandage over it after disinfecting it once again.

"There isn't enough coffee in the world for this sort of thing…" he mumbled to himself before heading into the kitchen to find his wife already pouring him a cup. She handed it to him with a smile which he easily returned. "You're amazing you know that?"

"I have my moments."

"You ready for bed yet?"

"Couple hours ago."

When they finished their coffees, they slipped onto the pull-out couch and promptly fell asleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When John has himself mostly under control again, he almost gasped when he realized how much time had past while he was out.

"Damn it… What the hell am I doin' out here? I need to be with my boys, whether they'll have me at this point or not." He used the last wipe to clean the blood from the steering wheel, then gave the dashboard a loving pat. _You better take care of my boy when I pass you down to him, just like you've always taken care of me._

Then he pulled a one-eighty and sped off to the only family he had left.

Bobby pulled in seconds before John did. The eldest Winchester looked pissed…

_Here we go again… _"So where's the coffee you went to grab?"

"Bobby? Where the hell did _you_ go? You left the boys unprotected?!"

"_I'm _tryin' ta help them, John. If you had been here earlier, you'da known that!"

"Wait, tryin' to _help_ them? What happened? Are they alright?"

"They'll be fine. Sam transferred a little too much blood is all and got lightheaded. Let him sleep a few hours and he'll be good as knew."

"Jesus…Bobby, what am I gonna do?" John deflated before his very eyes.

"What do you mean?" Bobby balanced the heavier grocery bag on his hip, knowing this discussion might take more than a few seconds.

"My boys are never gonna trust me again, and they have absolutely no reason to. But I want them back. I need them. Sam… He's not gonna let me go _near _Dean and I can't say I blame him at this point."

Bobby sighed, hoping he was doing the right thing. "Tell you what… Both of the boys are probably asleep right now. Not much Sam can do to stop ya while he's out."

"Right." John noticed for the first time that Bobby was juggling two bags. "Need some help?"

"Nah. I've got these. You go sit by your sons. It's the quietest they've ever been, trust me. Kinda nice."

John let out a soft chuckle, grateful for the small relief from the guilt he'd been feeling all this time. "Thanks, Bobby."

"No problem. Get the door, will ya?"

Bobby moved quietly towards the kitchen as he entered the motel, and John made his way to the bedroom. He passed the Prescotts sleeping on the couch and was glad they had finally given in to their exhaustion. He fortified himself before stepping through the bedroom doorway, ready to defend himself in case Sam was still awake.

His fortitude shattered when he found his boys bunched together and fast asleep, drawing off each other's presence for comfort. Sam was curled on his side, facing Dean, and had his small hands wrapped around his brother's upper arm. His forehead was nestled against his shoulder. John moved silently to the bed and carefully draped the blanket that was folded at the bottom of the bed around his boys.

Dean slowly turned his head towards his brother as though sensing his presence, then his forehead wrinkled as a spasm of pain jolted through his stomach. He didn't have enough energy to fully wake however.

John soothed the pained crinkles away and then rested his hand on top of Dean's head, associating the soft spikes with his son's remaining innocence. He felt responsible that there was so little of it left, but it still showed when the boy was asleep.

John frowned when Dean's agitation seemed to be increasing. The pain lines were back and his head was tossing back and forth. A soft utterance escaped his lips, but there were no distinguishable words. His breathing was also speeding up and turning into harsh pants.

Luckily, Sam was so worn out he continued to sleep. John was afraid his youngest would wake up and demand he leave because it was his fault Dean was getting worked up again. Hell, he wasn't so sure it wasn't. Maybe Dean was afraid of him now. John's heart clenched at the thought.

"Dean?" he whispered, crouching down so he was next to his son's ear. "Can you hear me, son?"

Dean just groaned again and continued to toss his head back and forth in pain. Just as John was about to call for Bobby or wake Roger, he noticed the glowing yellow orbs that penetrated the darkness outside the bedroom window. The bastard was waving at him mockingly.

"Son of a bitch…" John hissed as he flew outside into the early dawn, grabbing his shotgun on the way out the door. "This ends here." He circled to the side of the house where the bedroom window was, but he did not see the demon. "Where the hell are you? Come out and show yourself, you coward!"

"Well, if you insist," came a bodiless voice a few feet away. The gun flew from John's hands as he was thrown against the side of the building and held there. Then the demon revealed himself gloatingly. "Miss me, Johnny Boy?"

"Like a bad toothache," he grunted, trying to free himself from the wall.

"Oh stop struggling before you embarrass yourself. I only stopped by to have a little chat."

"I've got nothin' to say to you," John growled.

"Fair enough, cause I've got plenty to say to you."

"What the hell are you doin' to Dean? Leave him be."

"Not much I can do about it. Those damn migraines… Such a hassle don't you think?"

"He's in enough pain as it is, damn it!"

"And whose fault is that, John? I certainly didn't lay a hand on him."

"Don't even start…"

"Your boys are already begining to hate you, and I hardly had to lift a finger. Well, maybe one."

"You bastard. I'm not gonna let you tear a rift in my family!"

"Jeez, John… You're more blind than I thought! It's already happening! Can't you see it? Sammy's going to leave you _and _Dean behind one day, and there is nothing you can do about it. Face the facts, Johnny Boy!"

"It's not gonna happen. Sam and Dean are attached at the hip. I know my kid might be pissed at me, but he'd never leave Dean. You're not gonna win."

"Keep tellin' yourself that when he walks out the door. And you're right, those boys _are_ attached at the hip. Dean'll pretend to stay the loyal soldier for a while, but eventually he's going to go right back to his brother and leave you out in the cold. But don't you worry. _I'll_ prepare them for what is to come."

"For the last time, stay the _hell_ away from my boys!"

The demon winked. "Till next time, John. Tell the boys I said hi." With the sound of the front door opening, he vanished and John dropped to his feet, thoroughly pissed off. He retrieved his gun and was headed back towards the door when he bumped into a confused and worried Bobby.

"John? What the hell is goin' on? What'd you go flyin' out the door for?"

"He was here again, Bobby. He's gettin' a little too cocky for my taste."

"What'd he say?"

John hesitated, debating on telling his friend what the demon had said, then decided against it. "Nothin' important. Just playin' games with me. Come on. We gotta check on Dean again."

"Why? He have another migraine when that thing showed up?" Bobby was sounding pissed now too.

"Yeah, I think so. Should've stopped by now, but I want to see if he's woken up yet."

"It's gonna take some time for him to heal, John. It's not gonna happen over night."

"I know that, Bobby. I just… I need to hear his voice."

"You mean you need to hear him say he doesn't blame you."

John dropped his eyes to the ground. "Don't know why he wouldn't blame me. It _was _my fault. No denyin' it."

"It was an _accident_. I'm sure he'll understand that eventually."

"Maybe Dean will, but I've lost Sam for good. I can feel it."

"He's just scared for his brother, John. Give him time too."

"I don't know how much time I have," _before Sammy leaves._

TBC

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	18. I'll Do It

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Bobby and John snuck quietly back into the boys' room and were relieved to find Dean sleeping peacefully once again.

"Thank god…" John whispered before slumping into the nearest chair.

"You look half dead, John. Get some sleep. I'll keep an eye on them tonight."

"I couldn't sleep now if I wanted to, but thanks."

"Afraid you're gonna dream again?" Bobby prodded, reading his friend with ease.

"It's a risk I'm not willin' to take."

"John, you can't stay awake forever."

"I know. I know. But I can for the rest of the night. It's practically morning anyway. You go ahead and get some sleep. I'm good for now."

Bobby nodded solemnly, thinking. "Wanna play some cards?"

John grinned wearily at his friend. "Thought you'd never ask." After checking on Ethan quickly, they headed back out towards the kitchen table, leaving the others to sleep undisturbed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ethan was woken by the sunlight streaming through the window into his face. He grimaced and rolled away, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep and stay like that for days.

Still not fully awake, he cracked an eye open to make sure his father hadn't entered the room. Once his vision became focused, he panicked slightly, realizing he wasn't in his room at all. Then he could hear soft voices coming from the kitchen and relaxed when he recognized them as Bobby's and John's. Yesterday's events flooded back to him, especially when he moved to sit up.

"Full house again," Bobby guffawed.

"You've gotta be shittin' me!" John growled exasperatedly.

Ethan smirked, then his panic hit the roof again when he glimpsed the clock out of the corner of his eye. The bright red numbers were mocking him. It was already ten thirty in the morning…

"Emma!" He practically fell out of the bed as he tried to disentangle himself and pull his shoes on at the same time. He only vaguely noticed Bobby hurrying in to make sure he was alright.

"Ethan? What's wrong?"

"I've… I've gotta go. I'm late!"

"Whoa, slow down now. Where's the fire?"

Sam sat up from the other bed, rubbing at his tired eyes. The Prescotts stood in the doorway, both nursing fresh cups of coffee. Dean was still in a healing sleep or unconscious, and John stood just inside the room, his eyes darting between Ethan and his own boys.

"No fire, just a pissed off dad with an innocent daughter and no son to take his frustrations out on. She's gonna be there any minute! I have to get there first!"

"Alright, alright. Take a breath. Grab what you need and I'll drive you over," Bobby instructed.

"No. I will," John growled, a predatory glint in his eyes. Ethan swallowed hard at the tone.

"Oh, you don't have…"

"I want to. Now let's go."

"Can I come?" Sam's timid voice came from the other bed. John hesitated, not wanting his son to witness what was going to happen, but also not wanting to start yet another fight by saying no. He was thankful Sam had even talked to him.

Mr. Prescott saved him from answering. He stepped into the room, shooting John an understanding look. "I thought I said no leaving that bed until I gave the okay?" he questioned good naturedly.

"But I…"

"As my patient, I insist you stay right where you are until we get some juice and fruit in you and check you over just to be safe. Besides, you want to be around if Dean wakes up, don't you?"

Sam's dejected eyes brightened instantly at the mention of his brother waking up. "Do you think he will?"

"There's always a possibility. I can be more exact once I have a look at him as well." He turned his back to Sam in order to give a comforting wink to John who mouthed _thank you _back. "Ethan? Are you sure you're fit enough to head back home?" The trepidation was evident in the doc's voice.

"I don't have a choice. I need to pick up Emma. Thanks for everything, guys." He shook Bobby's hand.

"I have a feelin' we'll be meetin' again soon, son." Bobby shot a look to John who refused to acknowledge his words. He had sworn the night before that Ethan had to go back home no matter what. He couldn't risk the authorities getting involved.

John held the door for Ethan and then they both disappeared into the Impala. The doc turned back to the remaining boys.

"So… Who's first?"

Before Sam could answer, Bobby spoke his mind. "Sam first. My guess is Dean could take a while. We need to get some fluids into Sam."

"Good choice. Alright, kiddo. Let's get you better and back on your feet, shall we?"

Sam nodded enthusiastically. He'd never been a fan of just lying around. He felt it was a waste of time.

Roger fastened a blood pressure cuff to his arm and pumped it up. Sam winced when it pinched him hard and felt as though his arm was going to snap in half.

"I know it's tight, kiddo, but your blood pressure is still a little low. Hang in there for a few more seconds…" and then the cuff deflated. When Roger slipped it back off his arm, Sam rubbed the area that now looked pale white compared to the rest of his skin.

Next the doctor tried a few pinch tests to check the elasticity of Sam's skin. He tested the skin on Sam's arm, thigh, and abdomen. The skin didn't snap back into place as fast as it should, but he had seen worse.

"Do you feel dizzy or nauseous?"

"Maybe a little dizzy but it's not bad."

"Alright. Let's get some fluids into you then. I'll go grab you a Gatorade…"

"Here you go, Doc." Bobby stood right over his shoulder, holding out a bottle of red Gatorade.

Roger smiled and passed it on to Sam.

"Thanks, Bobby! The red kind is my favorite!"

"You don't say?" Bobby winked at him before turning his attention to Dean. "So how's the brat doin'?"

Sam almost shot the Gatorade out through his nose when he snorted with laughter, then had a mild coughing fit. "Bobby! Don't _DO_ that when I'm drinking!"

"Yer too young ta be drinkin' anyway. Besides, you can't cage The Wit."

"Not _that _kind of drinking, Bobby…"

"Oh. My mistake."

Sam shook his head in amusement before sobering slightly as the doc pulled on latex gloves and began checking over his brother.

Roger gently lifted Dean's eyelids to find green eyes staring emptily back at him. Not the best sign he could have hoped for. Then Roger pulled the blanket down to his waist, separated the two halves of Dean's shirt again, and listened to his chest. Dean's breathing was slightly constricted, but that could be a symptom of the pain he was no doubt still in. He switched out the IV bags which were almost on empty, then injected some pain killers into one of them.

"That aughta help."

Next he switched out the catheter bag that he had placed under the bed so as not to make anyone uncomfortable. He smiled comfortingly to Sam. "No blood seems to be present. The urine is a natural color. I have no idea how he lucked out like that. It's virtually impossible considering the area of penetration. Let's see how our quiet patient is healing, shall we?"

"Please don't call him that," Sam whispered.

"What? Quiet? I get the impression it doesn't happen often…"

"No. Patient. He hates that word and everything to do with hospitals and doctors."

"Ouch."

"Not you, of course. You're, I dunno… different. You've made him laugh before."

"It's true many of my colleagues don't tend to have an obnoxious sense of humor like myself. Don't worry, Sam. I understand. Let's see how _Dean _is healing, shall we?" Sam nodded with a smile. "Alright then."

He checked for distention once more in the boy's abdomen and was relieved to find none. Then he carefully removed the gauze bandages from the wound. He was pleased to find the surrounding area was a healthy pink and therefore not irritated or an angry, infected red. Roger pressed gently around the wound, watching Dean's face as he did so.

Dean grimaced and a soft groan slipped past his dry lips, but he remained asleep.

"If he sleeps the day away, he's gonna regret it when he wakes. There's a good amount of physical therapy in his near future."

Roger began systematically bending and rotating all of Dean's joints so that he wouldn't get stiff. He started with his arms, bending each finger, then his wrists, elbows, and then rotated his shoulders. Then he moved down to his toes, ankles, knees, and hips. Very carefully, he rotated Dean's neck last and then placed him back in a comfortable position and pulled the blankets back up.

"Alright, Sam. We need to keep your brother clean to keep his health up and prevent infection. Maybe you should step back out into the kitchen while my wife and I wash him down?"

"No! Dean'd freak if he found out Mrs. Prescott bathed him while he was unconscious. I'll help you. It wouldn't be the first time I've had to do it."

"You boys are tough as nails, you know that?"

"If that were true, Dean'd be okay right now." Sam looked so sad and dejected that the doc didn't know quite what to say to comfort him. The best he could come up with was giving Sam something to do that would help his brother.

"Can you get me a bucket of warm water and some towels, Sam?"

The boy nodded in silence and disappeared into the bathroom.

Roger turned back to the motionless Dean. "You better wake up soon, kiddo. Your family really needs you." He placed a towel over Dean's waist and pulled the blankets all the way to the end of the bed and waited for Sam's return.

TBC

How am I doing? Please review!!


	19. Back Home

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: **Will contain child abuse!** If you don't like it, please don't read it!

After following Ethan's instructions, John pulled up at the boy's home. _Don't go in. Don't go in. Just say goodbye and drive away._

"Thanks for everything, kid. It was good to meet you."

"Yeah, you too." Ethan's eyes darted around the street and to his house. He looked terrified, but John refused to give in to his tender side.

"Better get in there and find that sister of yours."

Ethan swallowed hard, but pulled on a tough façade and levered himself out of the car. He turned back before closing the door. "Hey, tell Dean I said thanks, will you? I hope he's okay. To be honest, I was kinda afraid of you when we first met. But Sam and Dean are lucky to have you as their father. At least they only get hurt from accidents. They'll realize that someday. They'll forgive you in the end. Just be there for them, okay? They deserve it."

John nodded in return, then stared directly out of the windshield as the boy shut the door and walked away. He knew he was condemning the kid and maybe even his little sister to years of torture and abuse, but it wasn't his place to intervene. _The school will handle it._ He turned the car around and hit the pedal before he could talk himself out of it.

Ethan heard the roar of the Impala's engine as it sped off leaving him behind. It left a hollow feeling in his chest, but right now, he needed to worry about his sister. He took one more minute to collect his courage, then walked through the door. Assuming his sister would be up in her room, he headed straight for the stairs. He didn't make it more than three steps before he was grabbed from behind and thrown to the floor where he landed with a surprised grunt.

"The hell have you been?" his dad slurred, one hand clutching a bottle of scotch and the other primed for causing as much damage as possible. "Not worth the money to keep you alive."

"Where's Emma?" Ethan asked, slightly shocked by the demand he heard in his voice.

"Hell should I care? Not like she earns her keep 'round here."

"She's twelve! What would you have her do?"

"Damn dishes! Clean th' house! Somethin' useful for once in her goddamn life!"

"Ethan?" a soft whimpering voice floated down the stairs.

"Emma?! Thank god… Go to your room, Emma, and shut the door, you hear me?"

"Ethan, no! Come up here with me!" He could hear she had been crying for some time. There was a hitch in her breath every few words.

"Please, Emma! Do as I say!"

"Get the hell down here, girl! See what happens to slackers…" their dad grunted.

Ethan was so focused on his sister than he never had a chance to prepare for the boot that connected with his already bruised ribs. The breath was knocked from his lungs as pain flared throughout his chest.

"Ethan!" Emma came flying down the stairs at his sharp exhale. Ethan tried to tell her to go back upstairs, but no sound came out. When she came in to view, the siblings locked terrified eyes, each one worried for the other. He picked his head up and tried to lift himself from the ground.

Having more balance than any drunk man should, the father stood on Ethan's back with most of his weight, putting unbearable pressure on his spine and pushing him back to the floor. Pain lanced all the way up Ethan's spine and into his skull. The boy tried to struggle out from under the foot, but every move he made was met with the grinding of the boot against his spine.

Their dad took the last swig of alcohol from the bottle and tipped it upside down, then turned to Emma.

"'s empty! Get me a new one!"

Emma shook her head no, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Damn it, girl!" He stooped down and shattered the bottle against the back of Ethan's head which dropped back down to the ground with a harsh thud. His vision swam horribly and made his stomach clench in protest. "Get me another drink!" their dad roared again.

Emma jumped, then ran to the kitchen. She knew if she didn't, her brother would pay for it. She pulled a fresh bottle from under the counter and ran back to find her dad had flipped Ethan over and was sitting on his stomach with his now empty hands wrapped around her brother's throat.

"Let him go! Please daddy!"

Ethan was too disoriented to fight back. He was already turning red, and that had nothing to do with the warm blood he could feel trickling down the back of his neck from where the bottle had cut him.

"Had enough yet, boy?" He released Ethan with one hand and struck him hard across the face before placing it back around his throat. Ethan's legs were flailing behind his dad, desperately trying to throw him off. Black spots were forming around his vision. Oh god… His sister was going to watch him die.

Emma tried to pull their father off of Ethan, enticing him with the full bottle. He tried to shake her off, but when that didn't work, he backhanded her across the face. She fell backwards with a hard thump and a loud cry.

It was the first time he had ever struck her, and he was too focused on killing his son to give a damn.

"You two were always a mistake…" he growled.

Ethan's vision was almost completely back when the weight on his stomach and the hands around his neck suddenly vanished. He sucked in a deep breath and curled onto his side. He kept blinking harshly, trying to clear his vision enough to find where his father had gone. If he went after Emma, he was going to kill the son of a bitch.

He forced himself to rise to his knees and jolted as he felt hands on his arm.

"Ethan? Are you okay?" It was Emma. She was safe. But then… Where…?

"You touch either of them again, and I will take it out of your hide, do you understand me?"

_No freakin' way…_ Ethan blinked furiously, eager to see if his ears were deceiving him.

"Who the fuck are you?" their dad grumbled.

"Your worst nightmare."

It was John. Dean's dad had come back to save the day. Now Ethan could understand the devotion Dean had for him. The man was risking a lot to protect him and his sister right now. And he currently had their attacker pinned against the wall by his throat.

John might have failed his own children repeatedly, but he'd be damned if he failed another one.

John unleashed the fury he had built up over the past few days. He kneed the poor excuse for a human being in the stomach, dropping him to the ground before bringing the man's head down forcefully to meet his knee cap.

Their dad fell to the ground sideways with blood pouring from his now broken nose.

"How do _you_ like it, you sonuvabitch!" He kicked him repeatedly in the abdomen hard enough to crack the plaster behind the man's back. When he knew the guy wouldn't be able to fight back, he gripped him by the collar and shoved him up against the wall.

"Listen to me and listen good. These are your _kids_, god damn it! Start treating them like they're the best things that've ever happened to your sorry ass, cause believe me, they are. You should be thankin' the gods, not poundin' the shit outta them!"

"Every father has the right to discipline their kids." An evil smirk spread across the man's face.

John pulled him from the wall and slammed him back into it with twice the original force.

"Not like that, they don't! If I _ever _hear that you laid a hand on either of them again, I will come back here and personally feed you your intestines. Do we have an understanding?"

"I don't have to answer to you!"

John's fist proved otherwise. "I _said_ do we have an understanding?!"

The man could already feel his left eye swelling from the punch. "Y-yes…"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, we have an understanding. I won't touch the brat again."

"_Either_ of them."

"_Either_ of them," he agreed sullenly.

"You screw up again, and it'll be the last time, I promise you that."

John released his grip and watched the man slide down the wall and crumple to the floor.

"Don't freakin' move till we're gone."

He stormed over to the kids, remembering that he was about to be talking to a twelve and fifteen year old, and forced himself to look less menacing.

"You two alright?"

Emma's lower lip was trembling. "Ethan's hurt real bad."

"I'm okay," Ethan gasped out, feeling slightly foolish now that he had to have someone else fight his fight and save his sister. How pathetic was that? He tried to push himself up to his feet but wobbled unsteadily and was headed for a face plant when a strong arm wrapped around his chest.

He cried out at the sudden added pressure to his ribs but was grateful he hadn't fallen a second time in front of his sister.

"Easy, son. I've got you. Let's get outta here."

"W-what? Where…?"

"Back home. We'll figure out the next step there. Come on, Sweetie." He gently lifted Emma up onto his left hip and kept a supportive hand around Ethan's waist as they headed back out to the Impala. "Besides, you never got to say goodbye to Dean."

TBC

What do you think? John's finally stepping up! But did he handle it well?


	20. A Helping Hand

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

"What the hell happened, John? I knew you wouldn't be able to leave the kid, but couldn't you have figured that out _before_ his dad kicked the crap outta him again?"

Needless to say, Bobby was not impressed when John practically carried a battered Ethan into the room. John just scowled at his friend's intuition.

"And what happened to…" Bobby trailed off as he saw Emma walking timidly behind John. "Oh. Hello there, Sweetie." He knelt down in front of her, hoping to ease her fears. "My name's Bobby."

"E-Emma." She smiled weakly at him and he returned it.

"Nice to finally meet you, Emma. Your brother has told us a lot about you."

While Bobby was engaging her in conversation, John helped Ethan into the bedroom and gently lowered him onto the empty bed he had slept on the night before. At the mention of her brother, Emma's eyes shot around the room as though she just realized he wasn't by her side anymore.

"We're gonna take care of him, hunny. Don't you worry. Why don't you pull up a chair at the table and I'll get you some juice and fruit?"

Her eyes roamed back to the bedroom where she now knew Ethan was because she heard a soft groan from him, then turned back to the nice man in front of her and nodded.

"Good girl. We'll get Ethan all patched up and then you can go see him, okay?"

She nodded again, the small smile gracing her face once more as she climbed onto one of the chairs and waited patiently. It took every ounce of energy Bobby had to not start smashing things when he first saw her walk in with a red handprint across her cheek, but the last thing he wanted to do was scare the child. He quickly busied himself by raiding the fridge instead.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam was just finishing meticulously washing down Dean's left arm when his father came bursting through the front door. Roger, who had been rinsing off Dean's right leg looked up and held back a weary groan as he watched his newest patient being dragged to the other bed. _Never a dull moment…_

"Keep up the good work, Sam. I'll be right back." Sam nodded and moved on to Dean's chest, but his eyes kept skipping from his brother to Ethan and back again.

"What happened, John?" Roger asked confidentially as he made his way over to the suffering boy. He switched his gloves for clean ones as he went.

John sighed. "Bobby was right. I couldn't just leave him there without knowin' they'd both be okay, so I went back and Ethan was already a bloody mess on the floor. If I had just walked him to the door and kept an eye on him…"

"Don't beat yourself up, John. You can only do so much for all these kids. They're here and safe now because of you. That's all that matters." He clasped John comfortingly on the shoulder before focusing his attention on the shaking Ethan.

"Ethan? Can you hear me, son?"

Ethan's eyes stayed downcast and he didn't make any move to show that he had heard the doc speak. Roger frowned and tried to lift Ethan's chin but the boy gasped in pain and jerked away, never looking up from the ground.

Roger pulled a chemical ice pack from his bag, broke the seal inside, and shook it until it was cold. He slowly eased it against the more bruised side of Ethan's face, then lifted the boy's hand until he was holding the pack himself, freeing up the doc's hands to work.

Silently, Roger dabbed an alcohol swab against the small cuts littering Ethan's face made by his father's class ring. Then he saw the blood on the back of Ethan's collar. He stood up and moved until he was behind the boy and carefully thumbed through his hair until he brushed against a sharp piece of glass and Ethan hissed in pain.

"Sorry, kiddo. Hang in there, okay?" He moved Ethan's hair out of the way so he could get a clear view. Broken chips of glass fell to the ground from the boy's hair and one larger piece had embedded itself in his scalp. This was a job for Benzocaine.

He took the small spray can of the topical anesthetic and shot a small amount around the piece of glass. Ethan jerked forward as the cool liquid made contact with the back of his head. The doc placed a steadying hand on his shoulder and eased him back into his original position.

"Easy does it… Just give it a second to kick in…"

"Ah! It stings!" Ethan's hand shot up to ease the burning but John stepped forward and grabbed his wrist in a secure but not painful hold. Ethan finally made eye contact by looking up at John who smiled back comfortingly.

"Welcome back, kid."

Once the spray kicked in, Ethan was grateful for it because he knew the doc was digging the piece of glass out of his head and he was blissfully ignorant of the pain. He had a sneaking suspicion that the doc had also put in a few stitches to minimize scaring.

John saw the piece of glass Roger extracted from the boy's skull and his anger rose a few more notches if that was even possible. "What the hell did he do? Whip a bottle at your head?"

"Basically, 'cept he didn't release it. He was standing directly behind me. Well… more like on top of me I guess."

Roger finished the cut by sealing it with a liquid bandage so Ethan wouldn't have to shave his hair.

"That's taken care of. What else should we be concerned about? I'm guessing your ribs look about as good as your face right now?"

"Probably not as bad as my back though," he admitted gloomily. Boy was he a failure! His dad was getting up there in age and Ethan was a young, agile kid, but every time his father managed to catch him and make him pay for his mistakes with flesh. He was too afraid to fight back, ever since the first time he tried it and got the worst beating of his life in return.

"Your back?" The doc frowned in confusion and concern.

"He was wearing his boots today, and the man is no pixie."

"I see…" To block out the horrible image of the boy trapped beneath his father's weight, the doc busied himself with unbuttoning Ethan's over-shirt. He gently eased it off the kid's shoulders and then off his arms. He placed it on the bed next to Ethan. "Now comes the fun part. Can you take the T-shirt off, kiddo, or do you think it'd be better to cut it?"

Ethan shivered at the thought of either one, not wanting these men to see what he had been unable to prevent. He knew he was sporting large black and blue badges of failure.

"Look, it's not that bad. Can't I just have some pain killers and rest? I'm fine, seriously."

Both men looked taken aback at this change of attitude. Roger took a shot getting through to the boy.

"Son, I'm sure it's nothing I haven't seen before. At least let me take a look so we can rule out any permanent damage, and then you can have your rest."

"I said I'm fine! Please, just leave me alone."

John decided maybe direct orders would be a better way to go. It worked on Dean anyways. "Now is not the time to get shy on us, kid. Off with the shirt."

"Or what, huh? You gunna lay into me too? Is that what you're sayin'?" Ethan was quickly converting his fear into rage. He was too afraid to fight his dad, but he'd fight just about anyone else instead.

"Of course that's not what I'm sayin'! There's no need to take stupid chances in a situation like this! The doc here is gonna check you over and there's no buts about it. You get to decide if you cooperate or not. Doesn't matter either way."

"Why the hell do you even give a damn? You were just goin' to leave me with that bastard any how! Why did you even come back? Forget somethin'?"

"I went back to save _your_ sorry ass! God knows I've got enough on my plate right now without havin' to worry about somebody else's kid…"

"Who asked you to?! We don't need your help! If anything, you just pissed my dad off more and when you guys leave town and we have to go home, he's gonna kill me!"

"I won't let that happen!"

"How the hell are you gonna stop it from six states over?" Ethan hadn't realized he had risen to his feet until he felt the room tip dangerously and his legs refused to support his weight.

John dropped the argument immediately when he saw the boy turn ghostly pale and begin to sag. He surged forward and caught him, then lowered him back onto the bed.

"I'll find a way, Ethan. I promise I won't fail you too. I'll find a way," he said softly, all anger gone from his voice as he clutched the kid in his arms.

At first, Ethan wanted to hold on to his anger because it was all that was keeping him together, but when he felt this semi-stranger latch onto him in a tight, fatherly hug, he felt his anger melt away and the pain he had been feeling, both physically and emotionally, returned to the surface as his adrenaline left him beaten.

Ethan slumped wearily into John's tight embrace and broke down. He clutched at the man's shirt and buried his bruised face in John's shoulder. He wanted to scream, to punch something, to cause someone else the amount of pain he had gone through, but above all, he wanted to let someone else be the adult and treat him like the child he never had the chance to be.

He let everything go, counting on John to gather the pieces and put him back together afterward.

John rocked him gently. "Shh… Easy kiddo. Calm down now. You're alright. Deep breaths…"

Ethan fought his respiratory system, forcing it to do as he was told. The first few breaths were shaky at best, but then he slowly gained more control and his harsh breathing evened out. Now if only he could stop shaking…

John pulled away from him enough to see his tear stained face. "I'm gonna keep you two safe, you hear me? I don't care what it takes. You'll be alright."

Ethan nodded, wanting to believe the promises with all his heart. He had never allowed himself to fall so foolishly for a stranger's words because they always lied. If he had had any strength left within him, he probably wouldn't have believed in John either, but as it was, he needed to believe in something.

John patted him gently on the shoulder. "You ready to get patched up now or what? Can't take care of your sister if you're bleedin' to death."

Realizing he was right, Ethan wiped his face dry and nodded with resolution. He was ready to be back in control. He needed to be for Emma.

Roger patted John on the back in gratitude for talking some sense into the boy. Ethan looked down at his relatively tight shirt and let out a deep sigh.

"I don't wanna cut it off, but I think I'm gonna need some help gettin' it over my head," Ethan admitted, feeling ashamed again.

"That's no problem, son," Roger reassured and moved forward to assist. After a few moments of painful contortions they managed to get the shirt off and both Roger and John set their jaws in anger as they saw the amount of damage done once again to the poor boy before them. He didn't deserve that kind of treatment. No child did.

TBC

Another emotional rollercoaster ride! Too much? Anything you want to see more of?


	21. Make A Move

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

As requested, there will be more and more on Dean and the two sets of siblings in the next few chapters! Hope you enjoy!

Roger started checking for internal damage and broken bones. Ethan knew the drill now and sat perfectly still. The doc moved slowly and methodically from the boy's chest to his abdomen, and finished with his severely bruised back. The whole time John kept a steadying hand on Ethan's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze whenever he saw the kid flinch or heard him hiss.

"Well, it looks like your father may have succeeded where he failed the first time. Two of your ribs are fractured, but luckily not broken. We'll get them wrapped securely and then put some ice on your back to slow the swelling."

As Roger began wrapping Ethan's ribs, John slowly floated towards the other bed willing his son to wake up. He was oblivious to the fact that every step he took put Sam that much more on the defense.

When John reached the bed, he stretched out a hand to lay on top of Dean's, but Sam bristled and broke the silence.

"Don't touch him," he warned. He was glaring daggers into his father's heart and positioned himself between John and Dean to protect his brother.

Only then did John fully register his other son. "Sammy, I'm not gonna hurt him. I just want to make sure he's okay."

"He'll be fine. I'm watching over him."

"You two always were good at protectin' each other." John smiled sadly. Normally he'd never let one of his children talk to him like that, but he was still feeling guilty over what had happened, and he was afraid he'd push Sam into leaving earlier than he was destined to.

"Look, Sammy, I know I've given you no reason to trust me lately, but I'm still your father and I still love you boys more than anything. I wish I could take it all back, but I'm not dumb enough to believe that would solve everythin' that's come between us. I wish we didn't end up fightin' all the time. I mean, half the time I don't even know what we're fightin' about. I'm beggin' you, kiddo. Please just give me another chance."

Silence fell over the room again and John knew Ethan and Roger were watching their interaction, but he didn't care. He just wanted Sam's answer.

"Another chance? You _stabbed _my brother! How many more chances do you need before he ends up dead?!"

"That's enough, Sam." The quiet order came from the doorway rather than from John. Sam's attention snapped over to find Bobby who had been listening in like everyone else.

"But, Bobby, he…"

"I know what happened, kiddo. As much as you want to blame your dad, it wasn't his fault."

"How is it not his fault?! The knife was in _his_ hand, and then it was in my brother's stomach! Not much evidence needed to figure _that_ one out, Bobby!"

"Just keep takin' care of Dean, will ya? John, I need to speak with you in the kitchen. Ethan, are you ready for Emma to come in? She's worried about you."

"Uh… Yeah. I wanna make sure she's okay too. Just…" He grabbed his over shirt and Roger quickly moved in to help him slide it on to cover up some of his injuries. He fumbled with the three buttons in the center, closing the shirt just enough to keep the bruises from his sister's sight. Then he looked back up and nodded his okay to Bobby.

John took one last look at his boys and the damage he had caused before striding into the kitchen behind Bobby. Emma was still at the table snacking on grapes.

"Hey, Sweetie. Your brother's waitin' for ya."

She beamed at Bobby before sliding off the seat and racing into the other room. Ethan looked up just in time to catch her before she tackled him into a tight hug.

"Whoa! Easy, Emma! It's okay!"

Remembering how injured he had been, she forced herself to slow down and wrapped her arms around him gently.

"I was so scared, Ethan! I thought he was going to _kill_ you this time!"

"Nah. He'd get bored without me around." He smirked, but she didn't return it.

"You have to get away from him, Ethan. We both know he's never going to stop."

"Listen to me, Emma. I'm not leaving you. I don't care what he does to me as…"

"Well _I_ do! I _do_ care, and I can't just hide under my bed anymore while he takes his failures out on you! I _won't_!"

Ethan sighed and shook his head. There was no talking sense to his sister when she got like this.

As Ethan and Emma talked, Roger headed back over to Sam and Dean. He noticed the younger of the two was watching the other siblings as they were reunited with clouded eyes. He also noticed Sam's death grip on Dean's wrist.

"Careful, Sammy. That kind of bruise might lead to some awkward questions…"

Sam turned his gaze towards the doc and looked extremely confused until Roger nodded at his hand. Only when he followed the man's gaze did he realize what he had been doing. He eased his grip immediately, but refused to let go and break their contact. The doc smiled gently and ruffled Sam's hair.

"He's gonna be okay, Sam. Trust me."

"I just want him to wake up. I need _him _to tell me everything's gonna be okay. No offense."

"None taken. What do you say we finish taking care of him for today and leave him in peace for a while?"

"We can finish taking care of him, but I'm not leaving his side until he wakes up."

The doc sighed but nodded in understanding. He would have done the same if it was someone he really cared about that was hurt.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Once Emma rounded the corner and was out of sight, Bobby turned back to John who was restlessly pacing around the small room. Bobby was about to explain his theory to his friend, but he was interrupted before he even opened his mouth.

"So what is it, Bobby? Do you think the demon is messin' with my dreams? I mean, he's been controllin' Dean's migraines…"

"I don't think he's doin' it himself, no. John, I think yer bein' attacked by a dream demon."

"A dream demon? You serious?" That stopped him in his tracks.

"Once you're asleep, they have complete control of your memories and thoughts and can make you see whatever they want."

"Why the hell would it do that? I mean, what could it possibly gain from this?"

"That's where yellow eyes comes in I think. He probably recruited it."

"What the hell for? What does this accomplish for him in his _master plan_?"

"Keeps you distracted, and had you put a hole in your kid. He's tryin' to tear a rift between you two cause he knows Dean's your little soldier. Always was, and always will be… unless he can break that bond. Pretty smart if you ask me. Dean's too stubborn otherwise to join his damn army, but if Dean turned outta spite…"

"What have I done, Bobby? I really _am _going to lose them both." The eldest Winchester sounded so broken.

"Don't you dare give up now, John. Those boys need you more than ever. You and I both know Dean's not gonna hold you responsible for this, and eventually Sam will either understand too, or he'll forgive you because of Dean. Either way, that bastard is not gonna win. Not now, not ever."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Back in the bedroom, Ethan reached up and gently tilted Emma's head so he could see the hand mark on her cheek with better light.

"Damn it. Emma, I am so…"

"It wasn't your fault, bro. You know I… I never realized how much you really protected me. I never thought he would even try to… well, you know. Not until today that is."

"Never again, kiddo. He'll never lay another hand on you. I'll stop him if it's the last thing I do." He picked up the discarded ice pack that was resting next to his right leg and gently placed it on her red cheek.

She put her hand over his and tried to push it away. "It's fine, Ethan. It barely hurts anymore. You need this more than I do."

"What're you talkin' about? I'm practically healed already. I swear these guys have magical healing powers…"

She rolled her eyes at his obvious lie, but then realized she had no idea who the other people were. "Who _are_ they?"

"Oh! Sorry, kiddo. I forgot to introduce you. You met Bobby earlier, and John was the man who brought us here. He's Sam and Dean's dad. They're over there with the doc."

She watched in silence for a few seconds as the doc and Sam worked around the still boy in the bed. "What's wrong with him?"

"He got hurt, but they're takin' good care of him. He'll be okay."

"How'd he get hurt?"

"It was an accident. Sometimes things just happen and you have no control over it."

Emma could read the sadness in her brother's eyes. "You really care about him, huh? That boy over there."

He looked back at his sister, knowing she was too intuitive for her own good sometimes so denying it would be useless. "He's one of those friends you can't really afford to lose, you know?"

"Is he from your school?"

"Not exactly. He was just visiting I guess and we met and kinda bonded. He's a cool kid."

"He must be if you've grown this close in such a short period of time."

"You'll like him when you finally meet him."

"I already do." After all, any friend of Ethan's…

She sat on the bed next to her brother who gingerly placed one of his sore arms around her shoulders and pulled her close for a sideways hug. That one small move made her feel safe again, and for Ethan, it was completely worth the added pain.

They sat together in silence and watched Roger and Sam as they took care of Dean.

Once Dean was propped carefully on his right side with pillows stacked behind his back, Sam turned obediently towards the doc, waiting for his orders.

"Alright, Sam. First, we need to get his teeth brushed."

Sam's nose wrinkled at the thought. "Seriously? I hadn't even thought about that."

"Well he can't do it himself just yet, can he?" The doc winked at him before pulling a fresh toothbrush from his bag. The man came prepared, there was no denying that.

The doc donned yet another pair of gloves and headed towards the kitchen door.

"Okay. Watch him for two seconds, Sam, while I get a salt water solution and some towels ready and then we'll begin."

Roger paused in the doorway to make sure he wasn't interrupting the discussion between John and Bobby who both snapped their focus towards him once he was within their sights. He pretended not to have noticed the stray tear running down the distraught father's face.

"Just need some salt water. I'll be out of your way in seconds."

John wanted answers first.

"Hey, doc? Is it supposed to be takin' him this long to wake up?"

"Every person's different, John. He needs time to heal, and when he can bear the pain his body must be in right now, he'll come out of it, I promise. But on his own terms. _He's _gotta make the next move. Ball's in his court now."

"I never had the chance to teach my kids sports," John lamented quietly.

TBC

More angst to come of course, and as requested, more of the Winchester boys! Please review!


	22. A Real Family

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

"I never had the chance to teach my kids sports," John lamented quietly.

"Well, maybe you can change that when he's better. There's no time like the present." The doc's optimistic outlook was shot to the ground by John's trained aim.

"They have no need for sports. They'll never be able to live normal lives like I wanted them to. The closest they've ever gotten to sports is skeet shootin'."

"Tossing around a football might not teach them how to fend off a banshee or anything, but it will bring you all together more as a family. What harm could that do?"

"Short version? While I'm teachin' my boys how to hold the laces right, I'm _not_ teachin' them how to fight off a banshee that could very well attack that same night. If they got killed because of it, how could I ever justify it? By sayin' playin' catch was more important that day than showin' them how to protect themselves? I can't let that happen. If keeping them alive means they suck at batting, I'm willin' to deal with that."

"Just because _you_ are, doesn't mean _they_ are, John. Ever get picked last for a team?"

"Ever have to fight off a pack of werewolves by yourself? My boys aren't like everyone else. They never can be. I faced those facts many years ago. Besides, even if they _were_ good at sports, we're never in one place long enough for them to make a team."

"I'm sorry, John. I didn't mean to stick my nose where it doesn't belong. I know you're trying to do right by your kids and I know it isn't easy."

"Those boys are worth it."

"I'll drink to that," Bobby grumbled, pulling out the flask he always kept in his pocket.

"Better not let Ethan or Emma see you drinking. I doubt they'd respond well to it after what they've been through," the doc warned.

Bobby took one more sip before placing it back in his pocket. "Right. How's Ethan doin', anyway?"

"Not much else I can do. The bruises will just have to heal on their own. Pain killers and ice will be his best friends for a while I'm sure. I just came in to get some salt water so Sam can help me brush Dean's teeth."

"Yer gonna wha…?" The incredulous look Bobby was giving him made Roger chuckle.

"I got that same expression from Sam, and as I told him, _someone's _gotta do it. It's not like he can do it himself. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I've got patients to attend to."

He clapped them both on the back as he passed by them on the way to the sink. He filled up a cup with water, and being in the company of hunters, salt was pretty easy to come by. He stirred the mixture together and headed back out to find Sam meticulously fixing his brother's hair.

"Hey, kiddo. Whatcha doin'?"

"Dean likes his hair a certain way. It's always spiked in the front. He wouldn't like it matted down like it was."

"You take good care of him, don't you?"

"I try."

"You know, I don't think I've ever met siblings that were as close as you two before."

"Don't tell Dean this cause it'll go to his head, but he's always been a hero to me. I've looked up to him for as long as I can remember. I even used to sneak some of his shirts and pretend to be him when he was out for the day. I think he knew it too, but he never said anything."

Roger chuckled at the image of little Sam wearing an over shirt that was clearly too big for him, strutting around a room pretending to be the confident and charming Dean.

"Well you get to be the hero today. What do you say? Ready to help me out again?"

"Yes, sir!" Sam slid off the bed and hustled around it until he was at the doc's side. John watched his youngest's actions from the kitchen doorway. He couldn't help but admire and envy the doc for getting Sam to follow orders so willingly when he had tried and failed to do the same for eleven years now.

"Alright. Can you hold the cup for me while I work?" He handed the solution to Sam, then tucked a clean towel under Dean's cheek to catch the excess water so the boy wouldn't choke on it.

Gently, he lifted Dean's upper lip and ran the brush softly over his teeth and gums. Once the top teeth were taken care of, he moved to the bottom. Lastly, he cleaned Dean's tongue and the insides of his cheeks with the solution to prevent any infections or bacterial growth. Once the excess had dripped onto the towel, he used a dry corner to dab his lips and chin dry. Then he stepped back to admire his work. Sam did the same.

"Man, Dean is gonna be pissed when he wakes up and finds out what we've been doin' to him," the boy stated sympathetically, drawing a soft laugh from the doc.

"Maybe so, but when he realizes that it helped him heal, he'll hopeful be grateful instead."

"Not likely."

Running through the patient checklist in his head, he moved on to Dean's eyes. He lifted each lid gently and could see they were already getting dry and irritated so he put a few drops of saline solution into them. While he was at it, he checked for pupil responses with his mini flashlight. He held back another laugh when Sam bounced into his line of sight again, clearly getting antsy.

"What next?" the boy inquired.

"Well, I'll check his vital stats and respiration quickly, and then we can lay him on his back again, check the wound, and let him rest."

He plugged the stethoscope into his ears and listened to Dean's strong and steady heartbeat.

"Sounds good to me. Much better than earlier. Wanna have a listen?"

Sam nodded enthusiastically.

"Hop on up." Roger handed over the instrument once Sam was settled on the bed again. He placed the end of it over Dean's heart and watched Sam's face silently for a few seconds.

"Hear it?"

"Yeah… cool! It's loud!"

"That means it's a healthy and strong heart. Let's get him comfortable again, shall we?"

Before they eased him onto his back again, Roger lifted the back of Dean's shirt and quickly scanned his skin for bed sores. He hadn't been lying there for long, but the sores didn't tend to need a lot of time to manifest. He'd have to keep shifting Dean's position every few hours just to be safe.

There was a little bit of blood on the bandage covering the stab wound from all the movement Dean had been put through, so Roger cleaned the wound again and put a fresh bandage over it.

"Alright. Let's leave him be for now, Sam. I'm going to get Ethan some more ice for his back. You should get some rest. You didn't get much sleep last night and your body is still recuperating from the blood loss."

Roger went to find the motel's ice machine to stock up on ice chips and Sam snuggled down next to his brother again. He was only getting comfortable though. No way was he going to fall asleep until his brother was awake and in the clear. Dean's duffle was on the floor right next to him and a smirk lit Sam's face as he reached down and pulled out one of the cleaner over shirts. It had been one of his favorites when he was younger. He slipped it on, using it as a blanket, then rested his head against Dean's shoulder.

The anxiety he had been feeling all this time eased immediately. The smell of his brother's shampoo and the gun oil he always used filled Sam's nose. It was familiar. It was Dean.

"I miss you, big brother," he whispered and wrapped his small hands around Dean's upper arm again. That way he knew that even if he closed his eyes, his brother wouldn't disappear on him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mr. Prescott found his wife waiting for him outside as he returned with the ice.

"Something wrong, babe?"

"I just needed to talk to you alone, Roger."

"Alright. Go for it. What's on your mind?"

"Those children."

"Sam and Dean?"

"Ethan and Emma."

"Ah. And what about them?"

"We can't let them go back to that man, Roger. He'll tear them apart."

"What do you propose we do instead? Drop them off at an orphanage?"

"Adopt them."

"What?!"

"Just think about it, hun. We've always wanted children, and these kids need a real family. They have no where else to go."

"They aren't like clothing, sweetie. We can't return them if it doesn't work out. You know that, right? If we take them home, it's final."

"I know that. And I want that. Let's give them a real home, Roger. Let's adopt them before it's too late."

"I have to be honest and say the idea did cross my mind once or twice already. How about we talk to them and see if that's what _they_ really want?"

"Thank you, baby."

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"So are you. What's the ice for?"

"Ethan's bruising. Do you want to help me take care of that and then talk to them?"

"Sounds good to me."

They walked back into the building, hand in hand, and headed straight for the bedroom. They kept their voices down in case Sam had managed to finally fall asleep.

"Emma, could you give us a moment alone with your brother?"

Ethan instantly became wary, but he hid it well from his sister. She looked to him for instructions, so he kissed her on the head and sent her to the kitchen to find Bobby and John. Once she was gone, Ethan turned back to the Prescotts.

"What's up?"

Mr. Prescott began filling towels up with ice.

"We've been thinking, hunny, but we wanted to talk to you alone first so we wouldn't get Emma's hopes up if you decided against it," Mrs. Prescott began.

"Against what?"

"Well, we were wondering if you would accept us as your foster parents," Mr. Prescott stepped in.

"You… what? Are you serious?"

"Yes, we are. Ethan, we'd like to adopt you and your sister, but the decision is entirely up to you. If you'd rather go back to your…"

"No! Uh, no, I don't ever want to go back there. I don't want Emma to either. If you guys are really willing to do this for us, I'm not stupid enough to pass up such a great deal."

"So that's a yes?"

"Hell yeah it is! Thank you, both of you. This really means a lot."

"You're very welcome. Would you like to break the news to Emma, or would you like me to?" Mrs. Prescott offered.

"Be my guest." A real smile spread across the boy's face. Mrs. Prescott beamed back before heading into the kitchen to find Emma.

"That settles it. We'll get our lawyer to make it official, and with the way your dad has treated the two of you, I doubt we'll hit much red tape. Now, if you can lie on your stomach without too much pain in your ribs, we can get some ice on your back and try to help the swelling a little bit. Sound good?"

"Sounds great." Ethan moved stiffly but managed to make it onto his stomach. Mr. Prescott lifted the hem of his shirt and placed one of the towels filled with ice against the worst of the bruising. "Ah! That's cold…" Ethan bit his lip, waiting for the blissful numbing to take the place of the biting cold and the constant throbbing in his back. Roger proceeded to place the other towels over the most swollen parts of Ethan's abused body.

Mr. Prescott patted him on the back of the leg to let him know he was all set and then kept a vigilant eye on his soon-to-be-son. Wow, it would take a while to get used to _that_ one…

Sam smiled from the other bed, having overheard the whole conversation. It was comforting to know _something_ good was going to come from all this. "You hear that, Dean? Ethan and Emma will be safe now with the Prescotts," he whispered to his brother.

Dean let out a feeble moan that Sam could barely hear.

"Dean?" he tested warily, unsure if his brother was unconsciously giving voice to his pain or if he was fighting his way back to awareness. "Can you open your eyes, bro?" he pressed further.

Dean groaned again and slowly rolled his head towards Sam, but kept his eyes closed. Still, it was something.

"S-Sammy…?"

Sam sat bolt upright and turned to the other bed.

"Mr. Prescott! Come quick!"

TBC

You know what to do! Thanks for all the reviews so far!


	23. Pointing Fingers

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

* * *

This chapter is separated into three different perspectives. Hope it doesn't get too confusing!!

* * *

Mr. Prescott had seen Sam lift his head from the bed and watched the boy with mild curiosity as to what had caught his attention. When he heard the soft moan and Sam's shout for his assistance, he was by the other bed in seconds.

"Dean? Can you hear me, kiddo?" he tried tentatively.

Dean wasn't awake enough to fully register the pain his body was suffering, but he knew something felt off. He attempted to roll onto his side, hoping it would help alleviate the sharp burn in his stomach. Boy was that a big mistake…

He gasped in pain at the movement and in turn tried to curl into a ball but two sets of hands quickly pinned him flat to the mattress. Sam and the doc were afraid Dean was going to rip his IVs out accidentally. Dean's struggles increased as his sluggish mind tried to recall what had happened and whether he was in safe hands or the enemy's.

"Dean, you need to stop moving, son. Open your eyes for me."

That sounded like an easy enough order to obey, but for some reason his eyes disagreed. He tried multiple times and continued to fail as they fluttered and then closed again. But Dean Winchester was never satisfied with failure. He tried again and again until he succeeded. Once he managed to open them and keep them open he had to switch his efforts to focusing them instead.

He could tell there were two people around him, but he'd be damned if he could figure out anything more. Then a taller shape loomed over him and the first thought in his mind was that the yellow eyed demon had him. Every muscle in his body tensed, which sent pain sky-rocketing throughout his stiff body.

"Get away from me, you son-of-a-bitch!" he shouted, struggling harder against what he assumed were lesser demons doing their master's bidding.

"Leave us alone!"

Even through his pain-filled haze Dean was taken aback by this demon's guts. He didn't think anything was brave enough to stand up to old yellow eyes. He tried to at least focus his hearing as the voice rang out in anger again.

"You're scaring him! Get out!"

He cocked his head to the left, trying to force his eyes to focus on the small face inches from his own. That voice… it sounded familiar. It didn't sound demonic at all. In fact, it sounded like…

"Sammy?" He blushed immediately when his voice came out as a whimper. How pathetic was that? Some brave soldier…

"I'm right here, bro. He's not gonna hurt you again, I promise."

Dean was dumbfounded to see the demon slowly back away until it was hidden in the shadows. It backed off, but it wasn't gone by any means.

"Where…? What…? Sammy, I…" He knew he was panicking, and he also knew he couldn't control it. He was lost and confused and no one was giving him answers.

"I need you to calm down, Dean. Listen to my voice…" a deeper voice boomed from his other side. He knew that one too…

"Doc?" he panted out between ragged breaths.

"That's right. Focus on breathing, Dean. You're safe here. There's no need to panic."

He concentrated harder, trying to slow his breathing and focus his eyes on the figure standing in the shadows. Could the others not see it anymore? Did they not realize they were still in danger?

"He's… He's still here…!" he tried to warn. The soothing voices he got in return just frustrated and aggravated him. He wasn't delusional! There was something else in the room! He tried to lift a finger to point out its location, but the slightest movement he made was met with increasing restraint from the others.

The thing in the shadows disappeared into the kitchen as he watched. Just because the enemy was out of sight, it doesn't mean it's no longer dangerous. In fact, now it had the upper hand.

The doc realized Dean was only getting more and more agitated as the seconds passed and quickly called to his wife to bring him a minor sedative. He didn't want to risk knocking the kid out after he had finally woken up, but if he didn't do _something_, Dean was going to injure himself further and maybe others in the process.

Mrs. Prescott, who had heard the disturbance from the kitchen, came running and did as her husband told her. She injected the sedative into one of Dean's IVs and then moved to Sam's side to help restrain the elder boy until the drugs kicked in.

"You're going to feel more relaxed and tired in a moment, Dean. Don't fight it, okay?" Mr. Prescott instructed.

"No! Doc, he… In the kitchen! Saw him! Gonna hurt Sammy!"

"You need to relax, son. No one is going to hurt your brother. We're taking good care of him, alright? You just worry about getting better."

Dean felt the burning in the back of his hand as the drugs reached the IV needle and slowly he felt the warmth spread through his body and his limbs felt as though they were made of bricks. He fought against the drugs with the little strength he had gained from his long, healing sleep.

"No… I… Protect Sammy… Please…"

"I'll guard him with my life, son. Just take it easy."

"Dean?" Sam whimpered, refusing to acknowledge the tears streaming down his face. He thought he finally had his big brother back. He felt sick as he pinned Dean down and even worse as he watched his brother struggle to stay awake to protect him.

Once Dean lost the fight against the drugs, Sam lost the fight to hold back the dam and he sobbed uncontrollably, laying his head on his brother's chest and wrapping his arms around Dean's fragile torso.

"Dean…" the younger boy sniffed and scrunched up his face against the tears.

Sam jumped when a strong hand brushed across his back and assumed it was his father. He turned to yell at the man to go away but bit his tongue when he saw it was Bobby.

"Come here, Sammy."

"No! I'm not leaving him! I'm staying right here until he wakes up again!"

"Sam, you haven't eaten anything in hours. You need to take a break."

"I knew he'd be afraid, Bobby… but I never thought… Not like this…"

"He was just disoriented, kiddo. He'll be alright, just give him time. Come on now…" Bobby peeled Sam's body off of his brother's and pulled him into a tight hug. "He's gonna be just fine. Wait and see."

* * *

John and Bobby had heard Sam's shout for the doc and guessed correctly that it involved Dean. They ran to the bedroom to find that the boy had finally awoken. Bobby sank gratefully against the wall, but John moved to the foot of the bed, intent on finding out how his eldest was doing.

However, he was _not _expecting his son to have a panic attack at the sight of him. He froze in shock as Dean screamed at him to leave him alone. And of course, once Sam realized that Dean was afraid, he was yelling at his father too.

John backed away in horror at what his actions had done to his family. He didn't stop until he bumped into the far corner, hoping the shadows would swallow him whole. Every plea and whimper that escaped Dean's lips broke his heart that much more. _He_ did this. He turned his own children against himself. He handed them straight over to the dark side.

When it registered through his muddled mind that Dean was pointing out that he was still in the room, he forced his legs to obey and moved swiftly into the kitchen and out of Dean's sight, but not before he saw that the doc had to sedate his boy.

The thought that his presence was enough to send his eldest into a panic attack had John lunging for the bathroom and expelling the last meal he had forced down.

Bobby had debated on following John to make sure his friend was alright, but he knew Sam needed him just as much right now, if not more. The boy had been teased with the idea of having his big brother back again, only to have it taken away seconds later. That was just plain cruel. John would have to wait.

He approached the sobbing Sam and placed a soothing hand on his back. It took a while, but Sam finally accepted his comfort and wrapped his arms around Bobby, crying into his shoulder. Why did these boys have to endure so much pain? It wasn't right.

Bobby debated on carrying Sam out of the room and if necessary, force-feeding the kid, but he didn't have the heart to separate the brothers. Not after what had just happened. So he made himself comfortable on the edge of the bed and refused to release the small boy in his arms until Sam had taken all the comfort he needed from him.

* * *

Ethan sat back up at Sam's cry for the doc, knocking all the ice packs off his back. Right now he could have cared less about the pain the movement brought. It sounded like Dean was finally waking up.

He stayed on his bed so he wouldn't get in the way of the others. He watched as Bobby and John came running into the room, followed closely by Mrs. Prescott and Emma. Ethan waved his sister over and she obeyed without a second thought. She saw all the different ice packs littering the bed, but decided now wasn't the best time to grill her brother about the extent of his injuries. The mystery boy, Dean, was starting to come to. She jumped when the boy shouted at his father and felt Ethan pull her closer to him for comfort.

Her mouth fell open in shock when she realized that the two other boys were afraid of their father, just like she and Ethan were of theirs. She hadn't been told why, but she assumed it had something to do with the boy's injuries. John must have caused them, whatever they were, just as her father caused Ethan's injuries.

She had just been told she was going to have new parents and it was the best surprise of her life, but now she was starting to wonder if these other people were any better than what she had been living with for so long.

"It's gonna be alright, Emma," her brother whispered to her, keeping his eyes on the scene before them.

"What _really _happened to that boy, Ethan? I thought you said it was an accident."

"Even in accidents, someone's gotta take the blame."

TBC

I promise there'll be a lot more Dean coming up! Please review!


	24. Chill Out

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Sam's exhaustion won out as he cried himself to sleep in Bobby's arms. The family friend gently lowered the boy to the mattress next to his brother and smoothed out the sheets that Dean had tangled around his legs during his struggle. He glanced at the other bed to find Emma playing the role of mother hen and trying to get Ethan to lie back down so she could put the ice packs back where they were.

"They're not doing much good melting on the sheets you know."

Ethan rolled his eyes, recognizing his sister's caretaker stage. It was inevitable when she knew he was injured.

"I'm fine, Em. Don't worry about the ice."

"Right. Like I believe _that _one." It was Emma's turn to roll her eyes.

Bobby chuckled as he headed for the kitchen door to find John. He turned back at the last step.

"Better listen to her, Ethan. It's never a good thing to anger a woman, no matter what age."

Ethan glared at Emma's triumphant grin. "Thanks for your oh-so-helpful advice."

"You're welcome."

He turned back to the door knowing that Ethan would give in to his sister's demands soon enough. If not for the pain, then just to get her to stop nagging him.

He found the kitchen to be surprisingly empty, but the mystery of John's whereabouts was solved when he heard the toilet flush. He moved to the bathroom door and knocked gently.

"John? You alright in there?"

"Been better, Bobby," came the grunted reply.

Bobby eased the door open to find his friend sitting against the tub, staring dejectedly at his own knees. The smell of vomit invaded his nostrils instantly.

"John?"

"I don't know if Dean's gonna come back from this," John muttered.

Bobby quirked an eyebrow. He knew what his friend was talking about, but he had to make sure they were on the same wavelength. Plus, he wanted John to open up to him and share his fears.

"What are you talkin' about? The worst is over now. The doc said…"

"No. I mean, I don't know if _Dean_'s gonna come back from this. You and I know this was an accident, and he forgave me for hittin' and pushin' him, but _stabbin'_ him? That's a lot to forgive, Bobby. Even for a kid with as big a heart as his. How could I possibly expect him to… I mean, I could have killed him. His own father. It kills me to admit it, but I'm no better than Ethan's dad."

"There's a _drastic_ difference between the two of you, John. He hurt his kids on purpose and no doubt enjoyed it. If you were the same, you'd be tryin' to finish the job, not makin' an offerin' to the porcelain god."

"What if he never forgives me? What if he's afraid of me for the rest of his life?"

Bobby leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Listen, John… I gotta be honest with ya. It'll probably take some time for the boy to come to terms with what happened, but he _will _come around. Be patient with him, and whatever you do, don't give him any more reasons to fear you."

"Bobby? John?" Roger appeared in the doorway next to Bobby. He seemed anxious to inform them about something, and it was making John nervous.

"What is it? Did something happen?"

"It's Dean. He's waking up again. We only gave him a mild sedative and it has already run its course. Either that or he's fighting it."

_Story of the kid's life, _Bobby thought sadly as he recalled Dean's admission to breaking through the memory charm. He looked to John, waiting for his response. The eldest Winchester sighed and dropped his gaze again.

"You go, Bobby. I'll give him the space he needs until he's ready."

Roger and Bobby went to check on Dean together, and John pulled himself up off the ground and walked back out into the kitchen. He wanted to be nearby in case he was needed for anything. He wanted to be as close to his boys as he could without alarming them.

John sank heavily into one of the chairs and buried his face in his hands. He wished this was one of his nightmares and that he could wake up to find that it had never actually happened. But as always, a Winchester's reality was scarier than any dream.

Bobby went to the side of the bed nearest Sam, giving Roger easy access to Dean on the other side. Sam hadn't stirred yet, but Dean's hand was mechanically clenching and releasing a small section of the blanket covering him and his brow was creased in pain.

Roger slid Dean's clenching hand into his own, testing the boy's strength. It was clearly going to take some serious rehab before Dean was back to his normal hunter's physique. On a normal day, the boy would have had the strength to crush the doc's hand if he wanted to.

He placed his other hand on Dean's shoulder and gently shook and squeezed it, hoping to guide Dean back once more. Sure enough, the boy's eyes cracked open and seemed to be more focused than the first time. Dean jerked away from the touch at first, but then stilled.

"Can you see me, Dean?" the doc asked softly, hoping to let Sam sleep a few more seconds before waking him. He wanted to assess Dean's state of mind first.

Dean finally locked eyes with his and nodded slowly. A grimace crossed his face so Roger injected some more pain killers into one of the IVs.

"That should help a little. Just give it a second to kick in."

The pain lines slowly eased as the medication flooded Dean's system blissfully.

"Thanks," he croaked out. His voice was rusty from lack of use ever since his screaming match before he had passed out. "Water?"

"Sure, kiddo. Here." The doc had set aside a cup with ice chips in it when Dean had woken the first time and now the ice had melted, leaving nice cold water behind.

He helped Dean lift his head enough so that he wouldn't choke and pressed the cup to his lips. Ever so slowly, he tilted the cup until he saw Dean swallow twice and then pulled the cup away.

"Start slow, okay? I'll give you some more in a little bit."

"Where's Sammy?" Dean asked, unaware that his brother was sleeping right next to him because he hadn't turned his head away from the doc.

"He's right here, Dean," Bobby informed him and Dean whipped his head around to find the man smiling fondly down at him. Then he saw his brother and smirked. Bobby placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and shook him gently. "Sammy? Dean's awake."

Sam jolted back to consciousness as those words sunk in and he turned to his brother to confirm it for himself. It took everything he had not to burst into tears again when he was met with his brother's familiar smirk.

"Dean?"

The elder brother's smirk turned into a mock frown as he took in his little brother's apparel.

"Dude, are you wearing my shirt again? I thought you grew out of that."

Sam grinned widely, but his tone came out as accusing.

"You _did _know!"

"Course I did. I've always had better taste than you. Plus I had to do laundry more often since half my stuff was mysteriously missin'."

"Not _half_! I only stole a couple!"

"Sure you did."

"How're you feeling?"

"Well that was subtle."

"Dean…"

"Like I did a thousand crunches in ten seconds."

"Ouch."

"No kiddin'." Dean made a disgusted face as though he just realized something. "What the hell is that taste? Did I eat rock salt while I was out? Blech…"

Sam sniggered.

"No, goofball. We brushed your teeth with salt water."

Dean's eyebrow rose.

"Come again?"

"Well it wasn't like you were able to do it yourself." Sam beamed at being able to use the doc's line from before on someone else.

"It's dangerous passin' out around you people. You never know what'll happen while you're out."

"Trust me, it's been educational."

"Great…" Dean was blushing again as he thought of all the things that would've had to have been done to him while he was out. He sincerely hoped his brother wasn't around when it came to bathing him. Talk about awkward… Then again, he _really _hoped Mrs. Prescott wasn't involved.

The more he thought, the more his memories came back to him.

"What day is it?"

"It's Friday night," Mr. Prescott answered.

"Friday… Oh shit! Emma! Is she okay? Where's Ethan?"

"They're both fine, Dean. They're right over there on the other bed."

Sam moved out of Dean's line of sight so he could see the other two and relax a little. Dean watched as the siblings bickered lightheartedly as Emma played nurse and drove her big brother insane.

Dean smirked, then turned to his own little brother.

"She's like a female you. Gotta tell ya, I'm not seein' much difference… In fact, she could probably kick your ass."

"In your dreams, Jerk."

"Bitch."

"God I missed you, Dean."

"Well of course you did. What's not to miss? My charm and wit make me the life of the party."

"But your stupid heroics are gonna be the death of you."

"Ah. Speaking of… Where's dad?"

"Who the hell cares," Sam shot back, anger coursing through his words.

"Jeez, Sammy. Way to hold a grudge."

"He could have _killed_ you, Dean!"

"Well he didn't, so chill out. I want to speak to him. Alone."

"Dean, I…"

"Sam. That wasn't a suggestion."

"Fine, I'll get him." Sam stormed off towards the kitchen.

"You're not gettin' rid of us _that _easily. The doc needs to check you over again," Bobby informed Dean.

"It can wait, Bobby. Please. I need to talk to dad."

"Alright. We'll wait in the kitchen then."

"Thank you."

"Go easy on him, Dean. He's already punishin' himself."

TBC

Please review! How am I doing so far? Plenty more Winchesters and angst to come.


	25. Absolution

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

John looked up as his youngest stormed into the kitchen.

"Sam?"

"Dean wants to see you."

John struggled with his conscience. He really wanted to see his son and make sure he was okay, but on the other hand, he didn't want to scare Dean even more by his presence. The later argument won out and he shook his head just as Bobby joined them at the table.

"No. He's not ready for…"

"John, he's askin' for ya. If he wasn't ready…"

John's tentative hold on stability snapped as his anger flooded him and he stood abruptly.

"Well then maybe _I'm _not ready! Jesus, Bobby… I just… I can't see the fear in his eyes again, knowing that I'm the one who put it there. I can't feel him flinch underneath my hand when I'm trying to comfort him. I can't and I won't."

"So hurting him wasn't enough? Now you're going to deny his wishes and shut him out?!" Sam's anger matched his father's.

"Damn it, Sam! I have _nothing _to say to him!"

"How about _I'm sorry_?! How about I'm a complete asshole but I never meant to hurt you?!"

"Don't you understand?! Sorry isn't enough right now! Not after what I…"

"At least it's _something_! If you shut him out now when he needs you the most, you'll lose him forever. And if not him, then certainly me." Sam crossed his arms defiantly over his chest.

John's stomach flipped as the demon's words came back to him. _Sammy's going to leave you __and __Dean behind one day, and there is nothing you can do about it._

_I can't let that happen…_

"Alright! Christ… I'll go talk to him." Feeling the others' eyes burning holes in his back, he slowly made his way towards the bedroom door. For a quick second, he entertained the idea of making a mad dash for the front door instead and just driving away to give himself time to think and collect himself. But before he could act on it, his feet had carried him into the other room. He cleared his throat to let Dean know of his presence. Dean looked up from his lap.

"Dad…"

_Remember what Sammy said… It's a simple sentence. You can do it…_

"Dean, I'm…"

"I'm sorry."

John was completely thrown. Dean had beaten him to the punch, but why? He took another step into the room towards his eldest.

"For what, son?" _For being my kid? For having ever met me?_

"For not reacting fast enough." Dean's eyes dropped to the sheet pooled in his lap again and John's stomach dropped to the floor. In fact, he was pretty sure he had just stepped on it too.

"Oh, Dean… This was not your fault, do you hear me?"

"I should've known better than to wake you up from a nightmare. I wasn't thinking."

"So… you remember what happened now?" Flashes of Dean begging for his torturers to stop flooded John's mind as well as Dean's pride that he hadn't cracked and revealed anything important to his "captors".

Dean blushed slightly and nodded. "Yeah. I remember. I dunno what that whole freak out was about. The stuff in my head just seemed so real, you know?"

Roger, who had been lurking near Ethan's bed, had overheard the last few sentences and decided he needed to speak up. "It's a common occurrence and nothing to be ashamed of, Dean. With the amount of pain you were in, your mind tried to invent a reason you were willing to accept to explain what had happened. Excuse me for butting in…"

Dean forced a smirk but barely succeeded. "So I'm not completely crazy?"

"Completely? Nah…" Roger smiled back.

"Dean, there is no excuse for what I did and no amount of apologizing is going to correct it, but I need you to understand that I'd never intentionally hurt you or your brother like that."

"I know that, dad. Hell, after livin' with you for fifteen years, I think I know you pretty well."

"You were always a sharp kid."

"Speakin' of… how's Sammy handlin' all this?"

"He's pretty pissed."

Dean nodded. He had expected that. Great. Just another reason for his little brother to hate his father and for Dean to get stuck in the middle.

"I'll talk to him. Don't worry about it. He'll get over it."

"Yeah, maybe. But it's not him I'm concerned about right now. Hey, Roger? You mind takin' a look at my kid to make sure he'll be alright?"

"Dad, I'm fine."

John didn't even acknowledge Dean's words, knowing them to be a lie. As much as his eldest tried to hide the pain he was in, he could still see it in his boy's eyes.

"Don't argue, Dean. I just… I need to know the extent of the damage I caused."

"Dad, don't."

"Dean…"

"Please. I'm gonna be okay. It barely hurts right now."

"That's cause you're doped up on pain killers. While we're on that topic, can I get you anythin'?"

Dean thought about it for a moment, holding back the plea for _more_ pain killers because he didn't want his father to know how badly his abdomen burned right now. He thought about asking for more water, when a different problem came to light.

Dean was about to mention the fact that he needed to go to the bathroom when he suddenly realized he didn't have to anymore. _What the...? _He lifted the sheet enough to find the reason why and groaned.

"Oh hell no! Dad…!" John winced at the angered tone.

"It's only for a while, Dean. Till you're well enough to get back on your feet."

"I'm well enough now! I want it gone!"

"Relax, son. You need to give your body time to heal. Just go with it for now, okay? For me?"

Dean let out a frustrated sigh before reluctantly agreeing. John patted his knee.

"Alright, Dean. I'm gonna wait out in the kitchen so the doc can do his thing. Call if you need anything."

Still with a heavy heart filled with guilt, John slowly rose from his perch on the bed and turned to leave.

"Wait! Dad…"

John turned back to his son, wary of what he was going to say next.

Dean latched onto his forearm and locked sincere eyes with him, making John feel like a child about to be scolded.

"I forgive you."

John thought he was going to fall to pieces right then and there, in front of his son. Those three words were his absolution and Dean knew how much he needed to hear them. John smiled with tears in his eyes, patted his son's hand, then kissed him on the head.

"Thank you, Dean."

With that, he left the room wiping at his eyes.

Roger moved over to Dean's bed. "That was a very good thing you did, kiddo."

Dean shrugged. "There's nothin' to forgive. I mean, I know it wasn't his fault, but I also know he thinks it is and he needed to hear me say that."

"You're wise beyond your age."

"Yep. Just call me Yoda. Any chance I can get some pain killers now?"

"That bad, huh?" Roger frowned.

"I've been better. It kinda burns."

"Let's have a look." Roger opened the two halves of Dean's shirt and was pleased to find the bandage was still white. He gently peeled it away from the wound to find it had basically stopped bleeding and the stitches still held. "Looks good so far. Think you can sit up a bit so we can get a clean shirt on you?"

Dean groaned at the thought. Moving wasn't exactly high up on his list of things to do. But don't look weak was at the top of that list so he bit his lip and nodded.

Roger pulled a clean button up shirt out of Dean's bag and then helped the boy slowly sit up, pausing when the pain was becoming too much for him.

"Almost there…" The doc kept one hand on Dean's back to keep him from falling backwards and the other slid the old shirt off of his shoulders and worked the clean one on in its place, leaving it unbuttoned. "Much better." He lowered Dean back down to the mattress and re-bandaged his wound.

Then he checked the kid's blood pressure, respiration, temperature, and the pulse in his femoral artery to make sure blood was still getting into his legs.

"You're well on your way down the road of recovery, kid." Roger smiled warmly at Dean as he laid the sheets back over him for warmth and privacy. He injected some more pain killers into one of Dean's IVs and patted him on the chest. "Get some more rest, Dean. You've still got a ways to go."

TBC

Please review!


	26. Power of Persuasion

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

The next time Dean woke up, it was to find Sam sitting on the edge of his bed and staring at him. He jerked away in surprise, jolting his abdomen and gasping in pain as he wrapped his arms around his stomach.

"Dude! What the hell?!"

"Sorry, Dean! I didn't mean to scare you! I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Sam already had tears brimming in his eyes. Dean sighed and shook his head.

"Jeez, Sammy, you're such a girl. Calm down, I'm fine. And you should know better by now not to sneak up on sleeping people."

"I did learn. I took your knife away a few days ago, just in case."

"You, what…?" Dean reached underneath his pillow, searching for his beloved knife, only to find that Sam was telling the truth. "You little weasel! Give it back!"

"Not until you're better. You're still edgy. I don't want anyone else getting hurt."

"Well how the hell am I supposed to protect you if you take my knife away?!"

"It's my turn to protect _you_, big brother. So suck it up."

"I don't need protecting," Dean stated obstinately.

"Says the guy with more injuries than the average crash dummy."

"Hey… What are you tryin' to say?"

Sam smirked. "Next time, get out of the car _before _it crashes."

"I take it that's a metaphor, or some other English term I couldn't be bothered with memorizing…"

"Euphemism, actually. Would it kill you to pay attention in class once in a while?"

"Probably. That's why I have you as my trusty geek boy."

"You don't fool me."

"Huh? Did I miss somethin' there?"

"I know how smart you really are, man. I don't know why you pretend to be otherwise. You could ace every single class you've taken if you just put in a little effort."

"Tempting… but no. As you said, if I already know it all, what's the point in paying attention? That's why we invented car mags. Oh, and Playboy…"

"Dean…" Sam whined.

"Dude, I swear one day you might actually become a boy. But I'm not gonna start holdin' my breath any time soon."

"Why not? It's not like you have any brain cells left to kill."

"Hey! You just finished tellin' me how smart I was, and now you're gonna renege?"

"Bobby says too many compliments will make your head swell and personally I think it's big enough already."

"At least it's not as big as your feet, Gigantor."

"Dad says I'll grow into them!"

"Dad says a lot of things." Dean froze the second the words left his mouth. So much for peaceful banter…

"Yeah, I've noticed that too. Guess I shouldn't put much stock in what he says."

"Come on, Sammy… You know that's not what I meant."

"Dean, he promised he wouldn't hurt you again."

Those damn tears were back in his little brother's eyes. "We've been over this, dude. It wasn't dad's fault."

"I don't care what you guys say. He made me a promise and he broke it. I won't forgive him for that."

"When are you two gonna stop buttin' heads all the time and start actin' like a real family?"

"A real family? Dean, we're _never _gonna be a real family. A real family trusts its members…"

"And what? You don't trust me?"

"Of course I trust _you_! I've _always _trusted you and that's never going to change. I don't trust _dad_, especially not around you."

"That's enough, Sammy. I trust dad completely with my life. That should be enough for you."

"Do you trust him with mine?"

Dean hesitated for just a moment, but it was enough.

"I knew it! See, tellin' me you trust dad with your life means nothin' when you have no sense of self worth!"

"What are you talkin' about? I have plenty self worth…"

"Don't you lie to me, Dean. Not you."

"Sammy, I…"

He was interrupted by Bobby who entered from the kitchen.

"Finally decided to join the conscious again, huh kiddo? Gotta tell ya, you look like shit."

"You two are just full of compliments today, aren't ya?" Dean drawled, half annoyed and half thankful for Bobby's impeccable timing.

"You want a compliment? Hmm… Damn. I've got nuthin'."

"You're hilarious, Bobby. Seriously, I'm laughin' on the inside." Dean glanced over to the other bed to find it vacant. "Where'd Ethan and Emma go?"

"Everyone's out in the kitchen."

"Why? What's goin' on?"

"We've just been discussing our next plan of action concerning those two kids. A couple of us have to swing by their old place, get their dad to sign the adoption papers, and pick up their stuff."

"Wait, what? Adoption papers? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, sorry, kid. Forgot you slept through all that. The Prescotts adopted them. Well… at least they will have by tonight. Officially."

"Are you shittin' me?"

"I shit you not."

"That's awesome! Bet their dad won't appreciate it too much though. What're you guys gonna do?"

"Whatever we have to, I guess."

"I wanna come."

"Now _you're _shittin' _me_. There's no way in hell I'm lettin' you leave this bed for at least another week, let alone get you involved in something that could potentially be dangerous."

"Come on, Bobby! I need to be a part of this. Don't go without me, okay?"

"I wish we could wait, kid, but Ethan and Emma need their clothes at the very least. We've gotta go today."

Dean slumped down further on his pillows and sulked. Now you just stay here and relax till we get back. You'll need to save up yer strength for when we start rehab."

"Rehab?"

"Damn right. Lost quite a bit of muscle tone while you were layin' around. But don't worry. We'll have you back in tip top shape in no time."

"Can't wait." That might have come out a little sarcastic…

"Sam, make sure he gets some more rest, will ya?"

"You bet."

"Oh, come on!" Dean protested. "I've slept way too much already!"

"You let Mrs. Prescott be the judge of that."

"Why her and not the doc?"

"Roger is comin' with us."

"You sure that's a good idea? I mean, what if things get physical? He doesn't look like he's ever been in a fight."

"We'll keep an eye on him. Don't you worry."

"Is Ethan goin' with you guys?"

"Not this time. I don't think he needs to be there if his father needs a bit of persuadin'."

"Good call."

"Alright, well you guys behave, and we'll be back as soon as possible."

"Be careful, Bobby," Dean warned.

"Always." Bobby winked and headed back into the kitchen to meet up with John and Roger. It was time they had a little chat with Ethan's dad.

TBC

Thanks again for all the amazing reviews! I would have given up a long time ago if it wasn't for all your support! Please don't stop now!! Suggestions, concerns…?


	27. Down and Out

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Once the three men had left, Sam took over caring for his big brother. He seemed to be in his element now. Dean was appalled when the back of Sam's hand landed on his forehead to check for fever. He jerked away with an indignant growl.

"You still feel kinda warm to me."

"I'm _fine,_ Sam. Just because your hands are like ice…"

"Take these." Sam held out two large pills, cutting off his brother's jibe.

"What are they?" he asked suspiciously. He wasn't an idiot. He knew exactly what they were. He just wanted to know if his little brother would tell him the truth or not.

"Just some pain killers. They'll help. Please take them."

There was his answer. Sammy lied, in a matter of speaking. Sure they would probably help, and in a way, block out the pain, but Dean knew they were sedatives and his brother was trying to knock him out so he'd get the rest they all thought he should have.

In order to pull off his plan, he needed Sam to leave his side for a while, and he knew that would only happen if Sam thought he was resting peacefully. He put the pills into his mouth, tucked them into his cheek, and took a swig of the water his brother held out to him.

"Good job, Dean." Sam smiled, making Dean roll his eyes.

"Gee, thanks, mom. Glad I've got your approval." Clearing his throat, he searched his mind for a way to distract Sam for a few seconds. "Hey, Sammy? Think you could get me some more water?"

Sam jumped to his feet instantly, glad to be of use and scurried to the kitchen. Dean spat the two pills back into his hand, and after glancing around frantically for a place to hide them, he shoved the pills under his pillow just as Sam came striding back into the room with a fresh cup of water.

"Thanks." Dean forced a smile onto his face.

"Anytime." Sam watched him expectantly and Dean realized he was waiting for the pills to kick in. Apparently they were supposed to be fast acting. He had to put on a believable performance if he was going to sneak out after his father and the others. Dean really wanted to see what was going to happen.

He faked a yawn and slumped further down into his pillows. Knowing he had to play dumb, he gave his brother a confused look.

"Sammy? What…? Tired…"

"It's okay, Dean. Don't fight it. You need your rest."

_Sneaky little punk… You're so gonna pay for that attempt later. _Dean hissed in his mind. If he hadn't been paying attention to the pills he would have been flat on his ass for real right now. He laid his head back and allowed his eyes to drift closed.

"Sorry, Dean, but it's for your own good…" Sam whispered before patting his arm and moving to the door. He checked back over his shoulder long enough to hear Dean's soft snoring before he smiled, shut off the light, and closed the door behind him.

Dean's eyes cracked open when he heard the door click shut and he scanned the room, making sure Sam had indeed left and wasn't lurking by the end of his bed. When he was sure the coast was clear, he sat up stiffly and bit back a groan as pain pulsed through his abdomen. He paused and waited for the pain to dull down to a manageable level again, then turned his focus to removing the two IVs.

He slid the needles out of the crooks of his arms and grabbed two pieces of gauze from the kit next to him to stem the blood. Dean kept his elbows bent around the gauze to maintain pressure on the punctures. _God, I hate needles…_

One connection to go, but he was a bit more nervous about this one. After all, it was somewhere you didn't exactly want to screw up a procedure. He should have demanded the doc to remove it before instead of caving to his father's will. _Yeah right… Me, disobey a direct order? No can do_.

It wasn't like he'd never dealt with a catheter before, but he certainly has never had a good experience with one, or attempted to remove it himself. _You know the procedure. You've seen it done a bunch of times. Just do it and get it over with before you miss all the action!_

He took a calming breath, then deflated the balloon that held the catheter in place and slowly drew out the tubing. His breath hitched a few times at the uncomfortable feeling, but he sighed in relief when it was over. Finally, he was no longer tethered to the bed in any way. Now he just had to figure out how to stand, get dressed, and get to Ethan's house before he missed everything. _Sure, no problem. Easy as pie…_

Dean kicked the covers completely off and slowly swung his legs to the side of the bed. His head swam with the movement after being bedridden for so long and he was forced to wait for it to pass. It was taking too damn long! Giving up for the moment and deciding he could deal with the room spinning, he pushed off the bed until his feet touched the ground. The second he stood up, a cry of agony was ripped from his lips and he hit his knees an instant later. He pounded his fists against the floor once in frustration and pain.

He had been so close, but he knew the second the sound left his lips, his plan was foiled. There was no way the others would just ignore such a blatant sign of pain. He toyed with the idea of trying to get back into bed before everyone came bursting into his room but knew he wasn't going anywhere of his own accord at this point. He'd just have to wait and endure the wrath of Sam.

He didn't have to wait long. Sam came barreling into the room seconds later with his brother's name on his lips. His eyes went straight to the bed and he paled the moment he realized Dean was no longer in it.

"Dean? Where…?" Then he saw his brother on the ground. "Dean!" He ran to his side, followed closely by a worried Mrs. Prescott and a timid Emma who waited curiously by the door. Ethan limped into view seconds later and placed a hand on his sister's shoulder, half to comfort her and half to keep himself balanced. The concern in his face proved that he wanted to help, but felt as useless as Dean considering his current condition.

"What the hell do you think you're doin'?!" Sam demanded, latching his hands around Dean's bicep.

Dean tried to shake him off, but his weakened state prevented it and only succeeded in increasing his anger and frustration. "Damn it!" he bellowed, punching the floor again.

"Dean, stop! Calm down!"

"I can't calm down, Sam! I'm freakin' useless right now! Can't even stand up…"

"You're not _supposed _to be standing up. Did you need something? You could have just asked…" and then it dawned on Sam. "You were trying to follow them, weren't you?" His anger actually made Dean cringe. "I can't believe you!"

Mrs. Prescott stepped forward. "Sam, why don't we get him back into bed and discuss this later?" She reached out to place a supportive hand on Dean's other arm and his back but Dean pulled back instantly.

"No! Wait! Please, not just yet, okay? Give me a sec." Dean was trying to steady his breathing through the pain. He wanted to look tough, but he knew he paled at the thought of being moved again. Sam seemed to have noticed too cause his tone softened instantly.

"You okay, Dean?"

Dean nodded, but was still struggling to pull in air through his screaming lungs. Sam knew his brother was in terrible pain, especially when Dean didn't have the strength to hide it anymore.

"Just take a minute, bro. It'll pass." Sam began rubbing soothing circles over Dean's back. The coolness of Sam's hand seeped through Dean's thin shirt to his fever-warm skin, making goose-bumps rise over his body and he started to shake slightly. "Easy, Dean…" Sam cooed.

Dean laid his forehead against the floor just above his knees and cradled his arms around his stomach. He distantly felt Mrs. Prescott's soothing hand on the back of his neck but didn't acknowledge it or shrug it off. When he finally had control of the pain again, a small groan of relief mixed with a whimper escaped from his throat before he could stop it. He refused to look up knowing Ethan and Emma were watching his failure at stoicism from a few yards away.

As embarrassing as things seemed right now to Dean, he was grateful that the doc had left his boxers on and that he was wearing the button down shirt. He'd do just about anything for a pair of pants, but he supposed it could have been a lot worse. That was proven when Mrs. Prescott's brow furrowed and she looked between him and the catheter he left behind on the bed.

"Dean… Did you remove _all_ your connections?"

He felt himself blushing profusely and nodded against the floor boards. He heard Sam's huff of disapproval next to him.

"Sweetie, that's a very dangerous thing to do if you haven't been trained properly. You could have really hurt yourself!"

"Believe me, _that's_ not what hurts!" he hissed out through clenched teeth.

"Alright. Come on, Dean. Let's get you off the floor. Ready?"

Dean's head lifted just enough to gaze imploringly into Mrs. Prescott's eyes. "You're not gonna put that stuff back in me, are you?" Dean blushed even more when he heard the slight tremor in his voice.

She frowned at him. "I suppose we can wait a little while and see how it goes. But if there are any complications, everything is going right back where it was, you hear me?"

Dean's eyes dropped to the floor in submission. "Yes, ma'am."

"Up you get. Just let us do all the work. If you tense up, you'll hurt yourself even more." With Mrs. Prescott on one side and Sam on the other, they hoisted Dean back onto his bed before he could protest again. "Now, do we need to cuff you to the bed, or are you capable of lying still for a while?"

Sam crossed his arms, attempting to look stern next to his brother. "One cuff wouldn't work anyway. He'd find a way to pick it, trust me."

Dean grinned sheepishly at his brother who glared back. _Guess that wasn't meant as a compliment._ Ethan could tell things were going to start heating up, so he escorted his sister back into the kitchen.

"What did you do with the pills, Dean?" Sam demanded.

"You mean those wonderful 'pain killers'? How stupid do you think I am?" Sam gave him a pointed look. "Don't answer that. Look, I just wanted to see what was going to happen, okay? You wanted to go too, remember?"

"Well I'm glad they told me to stay or I wouldn't have been here to stop you."

"Yeah. Remind me to thank them for that later." Sam scowled and Dean sighed. "I know it was a stupid move, but I'm sick of being stuck in this damn bed!"

"You've only been in it for a few days, Dean! Most of which you were unconscious for! It's not the end of the world if you just relax for a while, you know?"

"Sam, try to understand, dude. We've been trained to stay on the move and never let your guard down. I can't just lie here 24/7 with you people fawning over me all the time!"

"So you decided to risk your life instead? Brilliant, Dean! How far did you really think you were gonna get? The door? The end of the block?"

If he were honest with himself, Dean had never looked that far ahead. If he had done so, he would have realized he'd never make it to his destination and failure was just not acceptable to him. Having no response for Sam, he simply glared up at his brother.

"Dad's not gonna be too thrilled about this, Dean."

Dean paled even more. "You can't tell him, Sam. Please!"

"Don't you think it's gonna be a bit obvious when he realizes you took your IVs out?"

Dean turned pleading eyes to Mrs. Prescott. "Couldn't you tell him you took them out instead? I mean, now that I'm awake, do I really need them anymore?"

"More so for antibiotics and pain killers at this point, but I suppose those could be administered in other ways. I'll think about it. In the meantime, you get some sleep and I don't want you putting one toe off of this bed until Roger gives you the okay, understand?"

Dean nodded in defeat and laid back down against his pillows. So maybe he failed in his original attempt at freedom, but at least the wires and tubes were gone. He could rest more comfortably now.

His previous attempt had left him feeling weak and exhausted, and this time he didn't fight it when the darkness over took him and carried him off to sleep.

TBC

A chapter devoted to Dean! Did that satisfy a few cravings? Plenty more to come. Please review!


	28. False Sense of Security

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

John parked the car across the street from Ethan's home. All three men stared at the run-down building in silence for a while until Bobby threw his door open and got out. Ever since he had seen what a low-life their father was and what he had done to his children, he had been itching to give it back to him tenfold. John had his turn already, and Roger would just have to get in line.

John and Roger quickly got out of the car as well and hurried to catch up. They didn't want to miss out on all the action. Bobby knocked twice on the door before giving in and kicking it open. None of them was surprised to find the man camped out in front of his TV surrounded by empty bottles.

The man stood up, swaying heavily, and pointed an angry finger towards them, which actually was a few feet off due to his impaired vision.

"What you doin' in m' house?" he yelled. Then he paled as his eyes fell on John. "Didn't touch 'em! Damn kids never came home!"

"And they aren't gonna," Bobby growled. "We're takin' them off yer hands. All you gotta do is sign this paper."

"And why would I do that?"

"I don't think you've got much of a choice right now." Bobby's hands curled into fists.

The man's reaction was to whip the bottle he was holding at Bobby's head who ducked easily and then unleashed his anger. He had the bastard on the floor before the man knew what had hit him.

John moved closer to cover Bobby if he needed it, and Roger stayed by the door to make sure they weren't interrupted.

Ethan's dad struggled once the shock wore off but his inebriated mind was nothing compared to Bobby's hunter skills. Giving in to the fact he wasn't going anywhere, he switched to verbal threats.

"They're my damn kids! You can't have 'em!"

Bobby pressed his forearm tighter to the man's throat, cutting off 90 of his oxygen.

"Yer no father, you piece of shit. You don't deserve 'em."

"_My _kids… Can't…" He never got the rest of the sentence out thanks to Bobby's fist in his ribs. Bobby then grabbed the nearest empty bottle and smashed the end of it against the hard floor. He placed the jagged edge against the man's throat.

"Say that again, and I'll shove one of these bottles down yer throat," Bobby threatened. "Lord knows how someone like you could end up havin' kids, but by some miracle, they turned out okay after all and we're gonna keep it that way. Now sign the damn papers, or we'll sign them for you."

John pulled Bobby off of the man and thrust the paper against the man's chest non-too-gently. He wanted nothing more than to take a few more swings at the bastard, but he figured fair was fair, and now it was Bobby's turn to vent.

Ethan's dad coughed as he could finally draw air into his greedy lungs. He slowly picked himself back up off the floor and stumbled a few feet to the left before locking eyes with John.

Bobby thrust the bottle to the ground at the man's feet and it shattered everywhere.

With a villainous smirk on his face, the man moved to rip the paper in half. John and Bobby were all too happy to wipe the smile back off.

Bobby kicked the backs of his knees, sending him back to the ground where the shards of glass pierced his skin, and John bent his left arm behind his back and pinned it there.

"Who are you people?!" the man screamed in fear and frustration.

"People you shouldn't screw with. Sign. The goddamn. Papers."

They all watched as the man's face went through multiple shades of colors before he spoke again. "Fine! Take 'em! I've got no use for 'em anymore." Bobby shoved a pen in the man's free hand and directed him towards the paper on the floor in front of him.

The man scrawled his signature down before demanding to be let loose. John picked up the paper and pen, then stormed back out of the building before he did something he might regret later.

Bobby sent one last kick to the man's ribs before heading out after John. He paused in the doorway for a second.

"We'll be back for their stuff. You might not wanna be here when we do. I suggest you crawl into the closest hole you can find."

Enraged by the nerve of these intruders to threaten him in his own house, he pushed himself back up onto his feet and flung yet another bottle at the half open door.

"Those brats aren't worth the effort! Little pieces of shi…Oof!" A punch to the face knocked him to the floor for the last time.

Mr. Prescott rubbed his sore knuckles as he glared down at the man. "Watch it. Those are _my _kids you're talkin' about." Then he turned and followed the other two back out towards the car.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mrs. Prescott gently checked the crooks of Dean's arms to make sure he didn't damage anything while extracting the IVs. She was impressed to find that not only did he not cause more damage, but the holes had already stopped bleeding as well.

Dean did little more than toss his head to the other side in his sleep. Other than that, he was completely unaware of her ministrations.

Sam had refused to leave the room again after having been tricked by his brother. He sat vigilantly at the end of the bed, stuck between anger and concern for Dean.

"I love you, man, but you can be such an idiot sometimes," he whispered as though it were only him and Dean in the room.

Mrs. Prescott smiled, but otherwise did not make it apparent that she had heard him. She reached a hand out and placed it lightly against Dean's forehead, then his cheek.

"Is he getting worse?" Sam asked worriedly.

"He is a bit warm, but I'm sure it's nothing a dose of meds can't handle. He just tried to push his body a bit too much before it was ready."

"Are you going to put the IVs back in?"

"No, I don't think so. I have the feeling they wouldn't stay in long anyways."

"He was never good at sitting still. I used to think he had ADHD when we were younger."

"He does seem like a rather energetic boy." Her smile grew at the thought of a younger Dean running around like a kid on a sugar high. Sam seemed to read her mind.

"It's not his fault. Dad trained him that way. He's always gotta be on his toes, to protect me and to hunt. He never really rests."

"That must be very tiring," she sympathized.

"He'd never admit to it, but I'm sure you're right. That's why I tried to give him some sedatives earlier. It's the only way he'd be allowed to truly sleep without being half alert for possible intruder attacks. You know, that whole _one eye open_ thing…"

"Well he's going to get his medication one way or another, Sam. Don't you worry about that. He'll be back to normal before you know it."

"Are you going to give him shots instead?"

She saw the worry in the boy's eyes. "We will probably have to now, yes. We don't have any pills strong enough just yet. When he's a bit better we can transfer him to the pills."

"Dean doesn't like needles."

"He should have thought about that before ripping out his IVs then, shouldn't he've?"

Sam let out a pained sigh. "Yeah, I guess. He's gonna be okay though, right?"

"You bet."

"Shouldn't we check his wound again after all that moving around he did?"

"Tell you what, I'll have Roger give him a once over when he gets back, okay? He should be here very soon."

"Okay."

Right on cue, the Impala pulled up the driveway and three fuming men emerged from it.

"This doesn't look good…" Mrs. Prescott said softly to herself before meeting them at the door. "What happened? He didn't sign it?" she asked anxiously.

"Oh he signed it alright," Bobby growled as he entered. "After a little persuadin' anyways. Boys alright?"

"Considering."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, waiting for further explanation.

"Well Dean's still in a good deal of pain and Sam is worried out of his mind for his brother. But that aside, they'll be fine in due time. Roger? What happened to your hand?"

"He hit my fist with his face. Nothin' I could do about it."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You've been hanging around John and Bobby too much. Since when were you into fighting?"

"Since he bad-mouthed our kids."

"Oh. I hope you hit him good then." All three men looked surprised at this announcement and she blushed slightly. "What? I can't be a protective mother?"

"By all means," Bobby stated. "These kids could use some protectin'."

"We're not completely helpless, you know," Ethan stated making the adults jump. They hadn't realized he and Emma were in the room.

"Sorry, Ethan. We weren't trying to imply that."

"Emma, go sit with the boys for a minute, okay?" She nodded and did as her brother asked. Ethan turned back to Bobby. "We've made it this far on our own, and that was no easy feat."

"I'm sure it wasn't. Look, kiddo, we're gonna have to go back and pick up your stuff to move it to the Prescotts. Do you…?"

"Yes. I want to come. I have to see the place one last time."

"You sure?"

"Positive. But Emma stays here."

"No argument from me."

"Are we going now?"

John responded. "Nah. We'll give your dad some time to disappear before we head back again. In the meantime, you can share Dean's clothes and…" He paused. He didn't have anything for Emma.

"We have a niece that is Emma's age. The clothes might be a little big, but they're something," Roger offered.

"Well, then that's that. What's fer lunch?" Bobby headed to the kitchen and the others crowded around the table.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Emma crept quietly into the other room so as not to disturb the sleeping boy. He seemed to sleep a lot lately. She hoped he wasn't hurt too badly. As she took up a seat on the other side of the bed, she glanced across and smiled at the younger brother, Sam. He returned it half-heartedly.

She turned her attention back to the older boy and laid a small hand on his warm arm. Dean seemed to relax more under the gentle touch. Silently she leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. When she pulled back, she whispered in his ear, "You're gonna be okay." Then she stood, walked over to Mrs. Prescott's chair, knelt down and placed her head in her lap.

Mrs. Prescott looked taken aback at first before warming instantly to her new daughter. She wrapped a loving arm around the young girl and used her other hand to stroke soothingly through the child's long hair.

Things were finally starting to wind down again and fall into place. But even _she_ knew by now not to allow herself to fall into a false sense of security.

TBC

Good? Bad? Indifferent? Ideas? Please feel free to let me know!


	29. Too Easy

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Mrs. Prescott and Emma found the others crowded around the kitchen table making sandwiches. She pulled her husband aside. "Roger? I'm going to take Emma to my sister's place to see if Jenny's clothes will fit her. Could you check on Dean for us while we're gone?"

"Why? Did something happen when we were out?"

"I doubt it's anything to worry about, but you'll figure it out soon enough I'm sure. Just… make sure John takes it easy on him, okay?"

Roger looked perplexed but nodded non-the-less. "Drive safe, you two."

"I'm too young to drive, silly," Emma replied with a wide grin.

"Coulda fooled me, little missy. Say hi to Jenny and your sister for me, alright?"

"Will do."

With a quick kiss between the couple, the two girls were gone.

"Hey, Roger? You want cheese on yours?" John called from the table.

"Uh, sure. I'm gonna check on Dean quickly before I eat though. Make sure you save me some!"

"I'll try, but you've never seen Bobby when he's starvin'."

"Hey! A man's gotta eat when a man's gotta eat. Especially with _your_ two boys around the house…"

As the two men bickered lightheartedly, Roger slipped into the bedroom and knew instantly what his wife had been referring to. There were no longer any tubes attached to Dean's body.

"Stubborn kid," he said quietly while shaking his head. Seeing that Dean was asleep again, he silently made his way over to the bed and placed the back of his hand against Dean's forehead. He still had a fever, but he doubted it was anything above 103 so he wasn't too worried about infection. He had probably just irritated a few of his injuries while planning his "great escape".

Roger pulled the blankets down to the boy's waist and found that blood had soaked through the bandage across his abdomen. Dean had probably pulled a few stitches. Sliding the blanket down a bit further, he winced when he realized the boy had indeed removed _all _of his restrictions.

Dean's breath quavered as a chill ran through his body and a frown creased his brow. Mr. Prescott pulled the blankets back up to his hips and draped a blanket from the other bed over Dean's upper arms and chest, leaving only his abdomen exposed. Roger began peeling the bandage off very slowly, hoping that the boy would be exhausted enough to sleep through the process of changing it.

He was disappointed. Only about a quarter of the way through removing the tape, Dean started to stir.

"'s goin' on?" he slurred tiredly, cracking one eye open.

"Sorry, kiddo. Just trying to change this bandage. Looks like you did a little damage with your stunt."

Dean looked down at his stomach with confusion to find that blood had indeed made its way through the bandage. He dropped back to his pillow with a grumble.

"Damn. Does my dad know yet?"

"That you tried to follow us and possibly caused yourself more damage in the process? Not that I know of."

"Good. Can we keep it that way?"

Roger sighed. "Son, this isn't somethin' to mess around with. You've got one hell of a wound and if it's only your dad's anger that'll keep you in…"

"It's not! I'll be good, I promise! Please, Mr. Prescott…"

There were those damn puppy dog eyes. How could he possibly say no to that?

"Alright, fine. But don't you forget it or the deal is off. I don't want you moving from this bed without my consent and supervision, got it?"

Dean nodded resignedly.

"Alright then. Let's get you patched back up. By the way, you _did _remember to deflate the balloon on the catheter before removing it, right?" He winced at the thought of the alternative.

Dean blushed profusely again. "Course I did! I'm not a _complete_ idiot."

"Well I'm certainly glad to hear that. And I can see that my wife has already attended to where your IVs used to be."

Dean glanced down at his arms and looked taken aback. "I didn't even realize…"

"She is very good at being my nurse, regardless of the fact that she is not actually in the medical profession. I'm afraid her ability to be so gentle that she won't wake her patient was obviously not learned from me."

"No sweat, doc. I'm sick of sleepin' anyway."

"Let's get this taken care of then, shall we?"

Once the bandage was fully removed, Roger saw that Dean had indeed pulled four stitches.

"I'm going to have to repair those, but first let's see how you're progressing." He gently pressed on the skin around the wound checking for overly tender spots and rigidity. Dean hissed at the pressure but didn't say anything or try to stop the doc.

"How's the pain?" Roger asked with concern as he saw the creases reappear on the boy's forehead.

"Peachy."

"Hang on. I'll get you a stronger painkiller."

"Nah, I'm good. Just finish up."

"Dean…"

"Seriously. It just stings a bit. I've had worse."

"Yes, well, I wasn't there before to help ease the pain. But I am now. So just sit tight."

Dean dropped his eyes to the floor as the doc bustled over to his bag of goodies. He didn't want to appear weak in front of anyone. Dean was trained to push the pain away, but he had to admit, he could use a little help this time. He reluctantly held out his hand for the pills as Mr. Prescott headed back over to him. He was _not _expecting to feel a sharp sting in his upper arm.

"Ow! Hey! What the hell…?!"

"Sorry, Dean, but you brought this on yourself. Our strongest painkillers are made for injecting, but had you kept your IVs in, we could have just added it to the bag."

"Great. Well you know how it is… I just _love _a little extra pain." He grimaced and massaged his bicep as Roger took a closer look at his stab wound.

"I can give you a local anesthetic so you won't feel the stitches…"

"NO! I mean, I'm good. Just go for it." Roger didn't fail to notice how much paler Dean got at the thought. He shook his head bemusedly.

"I just don't understand you boys. You're afraid of needles, but you're willing to let me stitch you back up without anesthesia?"

"Doc, _nothin'_ about our lives makes sense. Why should our fears be any different?"

"Point taken. Would you like one of the others in here with you while I work? Maybe Sam or your father?"

"Nope. I'm good to go."

"If you say so…"

Roger replaced the four stitches as quickly and painlessly as possible.

"There. Need anything else while I'm here?"

"Somethin' to do would be nice. I'm bored as hell just layin' around all the time now."

"Well you wouldn't be so bored if you just went back to sleep."

"Come on, doc… I've slept enough! It's just a little wound for cryin' out loud!"

"A little wound that could easily get infected and kill you. Don't underestimate these kinds of things, Dean."

"You're gettin' a bit carried away with this whole 'dad' thing, aren't you?"

"Practice makes perfect. Look, I'll even send Sam in to take a nap too cause that boy has barely gotten any sleep since…"

"My little accident. Fine, but I'm not promisin' I'll fall asleep."

"Just as long as you don't leave that bed again. Sam will be in shortly. Call me if you need anything."

"Maybe an apple a day…"

"Cute, but you're not getting rid of me that easily. I'll leave the door cracked."

Mr. Prescott found Sam just finishing his lunch.

"Hey, Sam. I'm trying to talk Dean into getting more rest, but as usual…"

"He's refusing. How can I help? Need me to hold him down while you force sedatives down his throat? He won't take them willingly. No idea what he did with the first two I gave him…"

"No, no… Nothing like that. I told him I would send you in because you haven't slept much lately either. Perhaps if you fall asleep, he'll follow suite."

"But…! But I'm not tired!"

"Sam… Do it for your brother's sake. Please. He needs his rest."

Sam hung his head in defeat. "Fine…" and he headed off to the bedroom.

Roger smiled to himself. "Too easy."

If only he realized nothing was _ever_ that easy.

TBC

Sorry for the delay in this chapter! I'm back in school so I'll try not to let it slow me down too much. Please let me know what you think! Anyone still reading out there, or have I bored you all? Sorry for the lull, but Dean needed time to heal. I promise it'll pick back up soon though! Any final suggestions before I start to tie it all up? And don't worry, those of you who have been waiting for the YED to make a reappearance won't be disappointed. I'll bring all the events of this story full circle by the end, and hopefully do it justice!


	30. Good to Be Back

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

"Hey, Dean. How're you feelin'?" Sam asked quietly from the doorway.

"Like whatever was in that needle wasn't just a painkiller."

"Well if you're tired, don't fight it. Just get some rest."

"That's all I've _been _doin', Sammy. I'm bored," he whined.

"No, you're just pretending to be bored because you're refusing to admit you're exhausted. You forget I've lived with you for eleven years."

"What do you want? A medal?"

"Some pity would be nice. It's not easy putting up with your antics."

"Oh come on, I'm a joy to be around! You're not still pissed about the Nair in your shampoo incident, are you? That was at _least_ a year ago…"

"If I were I'd have every right to be, Jerk. But right now I'm just tired." Sam wasn't sure if this was really true or if he was only saying it for his brother's benefit.

"I think there's an empty bed over there with your name on it." Dean inclined his head to indicate the other bed.

Sam could've sworn the bed was actually calling to him. He obeyed the voices and collapsed onto it, sinking instantly into the soft pillows. Sam could already feel himself starting to drift off, but as he relaxed his mind started to wander until it lit upon a question that dragged him back to awareness.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you afraid of dad now?"

Dean lifted his head and stared incredulously at his little brother. "What?"

"You know, after what he did. Are you afraid of him?"

Dean dropped his head back down so his brother couldn't read the emotions that were running across his face faster than he could stop them.

"Course not."

"But he could have killed you!"

"Sam, we've been over this, man. It was an accident. In fact, I don't think it was all just dad in the first place."

"What do you mean?" Now Sam was the one sitting up, trying to get as much info as possible by reading his brother. He was disappointed to see that Dean refused to make eye contact with him.

"I mean… I think somethin' supernatural is messin' with us."

"Why would it do that?"

"I dunno. Enjoys it maybe. Why would it go after mom? Why would it attack innocent people? That's just what it does, Sammy."

"Oh. Still… He could've…"

"He didn't, okay? Just let it drop and get some sleep."

"Are you gonna sleep too?"

"Sure."

"Dean…"

"I promise, okay? Just close your eyes and relax. Stop worryin' about stuff you can't change."

"I love you, Dean."

"I love you too, kiddo. See you in a few hours."

"You better."

With that, Sam drifted off almost immediately. Dean laid there awake for a while longer, contemplating what Sam had said. If he were truly honest with himself, he was a little afraid of his father now. He had never thought his dad would raise a hand to him, and then he did. He never thought his father would cause him pain, but he did. As much as he wanted to deny it, his father had let him down too many times now to just forgive and forget.

But on the other hand, Dean worshipped his father, and any thoughts against him were practically sinful. So he pushed the fear and betrayal down to the depths of his soul where no one else could find it and he hoped it would stay locked in there forever.

With this slightly comforting thought in mind, he allowed the darkness to consume him. He was in a deep, peaceful sleep and therefore did not hear his brother start to toss and turn as the dream demon invaded his mind.

_Sam was pulled from sleep by his brother's pained whimpers. He sat bolt upright, frantically searching for Dean and was horrified by what he saw. Dean was laid out on the bed with his father's hunting knife protruding from his chest._

"_NO! DEAN!"_

Dean's eyes flew open at his brother's cry. He reached for his knife automatically and cursed when he remembered it was no longer there. When his eyes fell on Sam his heart rate began to slow as he realized his little brother was fighting nothing more than a nightmare.

_Only after he screamed did he realize his father was leaning over his big brother, still holding the end of the knife._

"_You deserve this, Dean. You were never good enough for this family. You let me down and now you need to be punished…"_

"_Dad! Stop! Please, you're killing him!" Sam shouted, jumping out of his bed and racing to his brother's side._

"Sam, wake up. Come on, kiddo. It's just a dream," Dean called from his bed wondering why no one else was coming to help. Couldn't they hear his brother was in distress? As Sam continued to toss and turn, Dean decided enough was enough. Promise to Mr. Prescott or not, his little brother needed him.

"Hang on, Sammy. I'm comin'."

Wrapping an arm around his midsection, he braced himself for the pain and forced himself into a sitting position. He felt the blood drain from his face as his body protested the movement, but once the room stilled and the pain was bearable again, he gritted his teeth and rose from the bed.

With a few wavering steps, he made it to Sam's bed and collapsed on it near his brother's hip. Checking to make sure Sam wasn't within reach of any weapons, he reached out and shook his brother's shoulder.

"Sam? Sammy?"

"_Sa-Sammy, get out… Run…" Dean wheezed before a cry was torn from him as his father shifted the blade still buried deep in his chest._

"_You have no right to tell your brother what to you! You're worthless to the both of us! The demon could have taken him back at the Prescott's place and you wouldn't have been able to stop it. Know why?! You were tied to a god-damn chair!"_

"_Dad! Leave him alone! Get away from him!" Sam grabbed his father's wrist and tried to pry it from the knife hilt. Instead, his father slapped Sam halfway across the room and shoved the knife deeper into his eldest son. Even from a distance, Sam could easily see the light slowly ebbing from his brother's eyes. He watched in horror as Dean took his last breath and fell silent and still. Then his rage overtook him._

"_You killed him, you bastard! What the hell were you thinking!"_

"_He didn't follow orders! He's no use to me! Clean up this mess or you're next."_

"Sam! Wake up!"

"Dean!" Sam wailed before jerking back to consciousness. "God no!" He sat up fast, intending to find Dean and make sure he was okay but was brought up short when he crashed into a warm chest.

Fearing it was his father ready to kill him for not cleaning up the mess fast enough, Sam struggled with everything he had.

"Sam! Hey, chill out, dude. It's me."

He stilled instantly. "Dean?"

"Yeah, little man. You're safe. It was just a dream."

"Thank god…" Sam burst into tears and threw his arms around his brother, pulling him close for a hug that was mostly intended to convince himself that Dean was indeed still alive.

"It's okay, you're alright…" Dean stated softly with a comforting confidence. "What happened?"

"It was horrible! Dad stabbed you on purpose and he killed you, Dean! He really did it! And he hit me too!"

"That would never happen, Sam. No matter what his faults, dad would never go that far and you know it."

"No I don't! Why is it so hard to believe that he would hit you and not me?"

"He never hit me on purpose. Come on, bro. Dad's not like that."

"He could've killed y…"

"But he didn't. Dad loves us, Sammy. He'd do anything to protect us. How can I convince you of that?"

"I don't think you can, Dean." Sam sniffed hard and began to pull himself back together. Only then did he realize that he was practically crushing Dean and that his brother was out of bed. "Jeez, Dean! I'm sorry! Did I hurt you? You shouldn't be out of bed!"

Dean winced when Sam quickly withdrew from his embrace. "Slow down, dude! Good grief… I'm fine. I'm obviously alive, and so are you. And what was I supposed to do? You kept shouting my name. Someone walkin' by might have gotten the wrong impression…"

Sam blushed. "I was _not _shouting your name."

"If you say so."

"Keep picking on me and I'll tell Bobby you're out of bed!"

"No need. I have my own pair of eyes." Bobby folded his arms and approached the bed.

Dean's face fell instantly. "Ah crap."

"Crap is right. Who told you you could get outta bed?"

"Sammy needed me. He was having a nightmare."

"You could've called for us! We were only in the kitchen."

"And you didn't hear him? He wasn't exactly being subtle…"

"Dean!" Sam protested.

Just to make matters worse, John entered the room.

"What's goin'… Dean! What are you doin' outta bed?"

"Here we go again…" Dean grumbled. "Sam was just…"

"You killed him! I watched you kill Dean and you enjoyed it! What kind of a father…"

"What the hell are you talkin' about, Sam? Dean's fine. I didn't kill anyone."

"Sam just had a bad dream, dad. Just let me take care of it and I promise I'll go back to my bed, okay?"

As luck would have it, Mr. Prescott came into the room, effectively overcrowding it.

"Dean? I thought we had an agreement…"

"Jesus… Not you too. Look, I've got this taken care of…" Dean tried to sooth as tempers were increasing throughout the room.

"Bobby, we're not safe around dad. Please keep him away… Please! He's gonna kill Dean!"

If the situation wasn't so serious, Bobby's face would have been comical. "What in tarnation…"

"Sam, I would _never _hurt either of you on purpose! I sure as hell wouldn't _kill _you or your brother! How can you even think…"

"I _saw _it! It wasn't a normal dream! It felt off, but so real. I won't let you do it!"

"Dean, you need to get back in bed," Mr. Prescott advised.

"Boys, I have no idea what's goin' on here. Can someone please explain…?" Bobby tried.

John stepped towards the bed to help Dean back to his own bed.

"Don't you come any closer! Don't touch him!" Sam shrieked, trying to get between his brother and father.

"ENOUGH!!" Dean shouted, finally having been pushed over the edge. "Everyone just shut up for a second so we can sort this all out!"

A stunned silence fell over the room.

"Thank you! Christ… Now, we were both catching some shut eye like we were told to do and Sam had a nightmare…"

"It wasn't a regular nightmare!"

"Sam! Then I tried to wake him up from my bed but it didn't work and no one else was coming so I 'broke the rules' but I'm not sorry I did it cause my little brother needed me. Sam, what you saw didn't happen, and it's not gonna. Dad, I made it over here on my own and I can make it back just as well, so thanks but I don't need any help. Bobby… Well I actually don't have anything to say to you at the moment 'cept you better have saved me some coffee. Now we're all on the same page, and if you three just step out for a sec, I've got this under control, alright?"

All three men went to protest at the same time but with a direct glare from Dean, they fell silent once more and proceeded back through the door into the kitchen.

Dean wiped a weary hand over his face before turning back to his anxious brother.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, I guess. I don't understand it, Dean. It seemed so real…"

"That happens sometimes, but they're still just dreams. I wouldn't let anything happen to you. You know that, right?"

"Course I do. It's good to have you back, man. I missed you."

"It's good to be back."

TBC

In apology for the late update, I made this chapter extra long! And though Dean isn't a hundred percent, he's on his way back. Thanks for sticking with me so far, and as always, if you have any ideas you'd like to see before this story comes to an end, feel free to let me know!


	31. Too Close for Comfort

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

**SPOILER WARNING**: Will be mentions of the most recent episode, _In the Beginning_.

**_RECAP_**:

"_ENOUGH!!" Dean shouted, finally having been pushed over the edge. "Everyone just shut up for a second so we can sort this all out!"_

_A stunned silence fell over the room._

"_Thank you! Christ… Now, we were both catching some shut eye like we were told to do and Sam had a nightmare…"_

"_It wasn't a regular nightmare!"_

"_Sam! Then I tried to wake him up from my bed but it didn't work and no one else was coming so I 'broke the rules' but I'm not sorry I did it cause my little brother needed me. Sam, what you saw didn't happen, and it's not gonna. Dad, I made it over here on my own and I can make it back just as well, so thanks but I don't need any help. Bobby… Well I actually don't have anything to say to you at the moment 'cept you better have saved me some coffee. Now we're all on the same page, and if you three just step out for a sec, I've got this under control, alright?"_

_All three men went to protest at the same time but with a direct glare from Dean, they fell silent once more and proceeded back through the door into the kitchen._

_Dean wiped a weary hand over his face before turning back to his anxious brother._

"_You alright?"_

"_Yeah, I guess. I don't understand it, Dean. It seemed so real…"_

"_That happens sometimes, but they're still just dreams. I wouldn't let anything happen to you. You know that, right?"_

"_Course I do. It's good to have you back, man. I missed you."_

"_It's good to be back."_

* * *

When Bobby, John, and Roger reached the kitchen, Bobby could tell his friend was pissed. He waited for Roger to wander away from them before addressing his companion.

"What's goin' on in that head of yers, John? Sam didn't mean what he said…"

"Yes he did, but that's not the point. Sam's right. I don't think he had a normal dream. The nightmares they gave me seemed realistic too."

"You mean yellow eyes?"

"And the thing he's got workin' for him. You said she's a demon, right?"

"Yeah… Nightmare demon. Related to the Mara."

"She's gone too far this time, Bobby. When it was just me, I could let it slide. But she's attacked one of my boys now, and she almost made me kill the other one. It's personal, and she's goin' down."

"So what're you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna take care of it, that's what."

"And how're you gonna do that?"

"I'll summon the bitch and say hello. Keep an eye on the boys for me."

"You need backup?"

"Not necessary. This is between me and her. I'll be back by supper."

"You better be. Don't do anythin' stupid."

"Me? Never."

Bobby shook his head at his friend's retreating back.

"Passed that trait onto yer boys…"

* * *

Dean heard the door slam shut behind his father and sighed. Knowing his dad, he was going after some creature to blow off some steam. He turned his attention back to his little brother.

"Think you can go back to sleep?"

"Nah. Don't think so."

"Yeah, me either. What do you wanna do?" Dean glanced around the room for ideas. He doubted they'd be allowed to leave their beds, let alone the room to watch TV or anything.

"Hmm… Can we…?" Sam trailed off into silence.

"Can we what? Sam?" Dean focused his attention back on his little brother who slumped forward against Dean's shoulder. "Sammy? Hey, you alright?" He gently pushed his brother away a few inches in order to see his face. Sam seemed to be asleep again. "Can't go back to sleep, huh?" he chuckled softly and lowered his little brother back down onto his pillows. Sam didn't even stir.

Dean frowned. Something was off. He reached out and gently shook Sam's shoulder. "Sammy? Dude, wake up for a sec." Nothing. "Shit. Sam! Wake up! Bobby! Doc!"

Dean heard the bedroom door slam shut and whirled around to find yellow eyes staring back at him. "Nice to see you again, Deano."

"What… Did you…?"

"Yes, I put Sammy down for a little nap. No worries. He's just fine. I thought you and I needed to have a little chat though. Uninterrupted," he added when they heard Bobby's fists pounding against the other side of the door.

"Dean? What's goin' on in there?! Open the damn door!"

With a wave of his hand, the banging stopped and was replaced by an eerie silence.

"Bobby?!"

"Again, he'll be fine. Focus here, Dean. I'm trying to have an intelligent conversation with you and you're being rude."

"What the hell do you want this time?" he growled angrily, positioning himself between the demon and his brother's prone form.

"You know, your father is _so_ predictable! Eventually I realized he wouldn't hunt my newest recruit if he was the only one she attacked. Then give Sammy one little nightmare, and off he goes. Easy as pie."

"Stay away from my brother!"

"My dear boy, I have no intentions of harming Sammy. He's not ready yet."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out. Let's just say we have a future date planned and I'll be paying him a visit when he's more suitable to my expectations."

"You're not gonna get anywhere near him." Dean sent the demon the most pissed off expression he could muster with the drugs coursing through his system. The demon drew back slightly in recognition.

"Future Boy?" he whispered to himself.

"What?" Now Dean looked taken aback.

"My boy we have a history, but you won't know that for another thirteen years or so… I nearly forgot."

"You're insane."

"I get that a lot. Anywho… Back to the main point. Remember our little Q & A not so long ago at the Prescott's house? Why do you think I did that, Dean?"

"Cause you're a sadistic bast…"

"Wrong answer. Cause I wanted to test your loyalty. Do you recall what my last question was?"

Dean shook his head no, but that was one of the first memories he had gotten back when he broke through the barrier.

"Why do you insist on lying so much? What does it get you?"

"A kick ass imagination?"

"More like a pain in the ass… My last question was would you willingly sell your soul to me if I let everyone else go. And do you remember your response?"

Dean glared stonily back, already picturing where this was going.

"You said _yes_. Not _no_, not _maybe_, not even _depends on the circumstances_. A flat out _yes_. That's the kind of loyalty I need."

"You mean for this pathetic army of yours? Yeah, good luck with that."

"Figured you might say that. But you see, I've come to sweeten the pot."

"Don't care. Not gonna do it."

"Don't love your brother enough, huh? You see, it's the only way you two will be able to stay together. You've got one hell of a rocky future, kid. Believe me. I've seen it. You won't be able to save him. You'll fail, and you'll never see your little bro again."

"I dunno what you've been smokin', but…"

"Dean, this is a good deal. Otherwise you'll be a hell of a lot worse off."

"Why should I believe you?"

"You know, if it wasn't for me, you two probably wouldn't have been born?"

"Bullshit. That's got nothin' to do with you!"

"I could have ended your whole family years ago, but I didn't. You know why? Cause I needed Sammy. I knew he'd have potential. I wasn't expecting you in the mix though. If I had known… Well, not much I can do about it now, is there?"

The demon leaned forward and sniffed deeply inches from Dean's neck who pulled as far back as he could in disgust.

"I can see now it was fated for Mary to die. You're not one of my kids, but with the way your daddy raised you after she died, you're as good as."

"Was that a compliment or a dis? I'm confused…"

"Take it any way you want. Fact is, I overlooked you and that was a mistake on my part. I admit it." He grabbed Dean by the back of his neck and pulled him closer. Dean winced as the jolt jarred his abdomen but schooled his features into a look of hatred once again. "I'm here to rectify that mistake."

"Sorry, can't help ya."

"Oh, but you can. And it will barely cost you a thing."

"What, just my soul?"

"Hardly. Just your loyalty. Your tarnished soul is no good to me, though I'm sure many of my colleagues would disagree. If you come with me, Dean, I will save you from a lifetime of misery and pain. You'll be great. The leader you were born to be."

"I'm no leader."

"You could be if you just got out from underneath your father's shadow… or should I say his _hand_? You're so much more than he ever was, boy. I don't understand why you let him boss you around."

"He's my _father_, you…"

"I could be your daddy, Dean. I could take you away from all this repressive crap and then you will be a man. The fine warrior you were meant to be."

"Thanks, but no thanks."

"I'm losing my patience, boy! I am telling you right now that in less than ten years, little Sammy here is going to leave you and your dad behind and you will have nothing left."

Dean glanced over his shoulder at Sam who was still laying on the bed as though he was asleep.

"He wouldn't do that."

"Oh yes he would, but he wouldn't be able to if you agree to my deal. I would never dream of splitting the two of you up. You'd be together for all eternity."

The demon pulled Dean forward until they were only six inches apart and stared into his green eyes. He smirked as he saw a glimmer of desire for his proposition. _So close_…

"Once he leaves, you won't be able to get him back. It is going to set off a chain reaction of unfortunate events and you won't be able to stop it. You will fail him, and you will fail your father. Is that what you want?"

Dean swallowed harshly, blinking to keep his tears in check. "I…"

"Come on, Dean. You can save your whole family here and now. All it takes is one kiss to seal the deal. Don't go gettin' all shy on me now."

Keeping their eyes locked, he slowly pulled Dean closer and closer, feeling the boy's resistance waning.

"Atta boy…" When the demon was only an inch or so away from Dean, he allowed his eyes to drift shut as he prepared to set his end game into motion.

Once the eye-connection was broken, Dean jerked to a halt, fighting the tight grip on the back of his neck.

"I don't think so, perv."

The demon's eyes snapped back open as a loud blast of rock salt embedded itself in the bedroom door. The demon was surprised enough to lose its mental hold over the door and Bobby kicked it in, shotgun in hand. He froze when he saw the demon and what it was planning on doing to Dean.

"Get the hell away from 'im!" He was afraid to take the shot with Dean so close to the demon.

"This isn't over, Dean. I'll be back for you and Sammy when the time is right." He winked at Dean and then vanished. Once the strong hand was gone from Dean's neck, he flopped backwards over Sam's legs, breathing harshly at how close he had come to making that deal.

TBC

I AM SOOOOO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE!! I've been incredibly busy and I wanted to set this story up for a big ending to tie all the loose ends together, but to do so meant I had to go back and read all the other chapters from this story and Meddlesome Fools. More to come, and as always, suggestions and comments are always appreciated!! Thanks for your understanding!! I'll do my best to get the next chapter out sooner. And please ignore any typos because I didn't take the time to re-read it. I wanted to post it as soon as it was finished!!


	32. The Demon Told Me

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Bobby made sure the demon was truly gone before dropping the gun and rushing across the room to the boys' bed. Dean was still panting and refused to look his friend in the eyes.

"Dean?! Look at me, son! Did it hurt you?"

Dean's mind was still reeling with the demon's threats and promises. Sammy was going to leave him… and he just lost his one chance to stop it. They could have been together forever and he would have been able to keep an eye on his little brother and protect him. He barely registered what Bobby was saying.

"DEAN!" Bobby placed his hands on the sides of Dean's head and forced the boy to face him. "Come on, kid… Stay with me."

Oh God… he would have made that deal with the demon if Bobby hadn't interrupted. Just one kiss from the creature that had killed their mom… Jesus. He almost let that murdering bastard _kiss_ him.

Bobby tapped the side of Dean's face sharply, hoping to elicit a response. The one he got wasn't one he was expecting.

Dean promptly rolled to his right side and began retching over the far end of the bed. Bobby gripped Dean's left arm for support and began rubbing his back to sooth the boy.

"Easy, kiddo… Try to breathe… That's it."

Dean's heaving stomach was bringing tears to his eyes as his sore muscles were forced to work and his wound was aggravated.

"B-Bobby…" he gasped between dry heaves, begging his friend for help.

"Hang in there, son. You need to relax… He's gone now."

"Bobby?" he whimpered in fear. He couldn't control his body anymore.

"It's alright, Dean. You're in shock. Just give the adrenaline some time to wear off."

"Sa-Sammy?" Dean coughed out, too numb to look for his brother himself.

Bobby patted Dean's strained back, then keeping his supportive hand on his right arm, he used the other to check over Sam.

"Sam? Wake up, kid." He shook the boy gently by his shoulder.

Bobby breathed a sigh of relief as Sam groaned and began to stir. Needing to see if Sam was alright with his own two eyes, Dean composed himself enough to crane his neck and check on his brother.

"Sammy?" he croaked.

"Dean? What…? What happened?" Sam's bleary-eyed gaze shifted from Bobby to his brother, looking for answers and feeling as though he had been asleep for at least a week.

Bobby and Dean shared a look before Dean answered. "You passed out, dude. Must have been more tired than you thought." Sam yawned.

"Oh. Sorry. You okay, Dean? You don't look so good."

"I'm fine. Just a bad reaction to the medication." Bobby could see the pinched look of pain in Dean's eyes and heard the quaver in his voice. He decided to intervene.

"You feel alright, Sam?"

Sam nodded.

"Alright then. You mind lettin' the doc know he can come out of the bathroom now?"

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "He needs permission?"

"Thought I heard somethin' in here earlier so I told him to hide in there just in case. He's got a mean right hook, but I'm not so sure he's ready to handle anythin' supernatural just yet. Oh, and I believe Ethan is in the linen closet."

Once Sam stepped out of the room in search of Roger and Ethan, Dean fell flat on his back, still trying to make sense of everything and control his nerves and nausea.

"Talk to me, kid," Bobby pressed. "What the hell happened in here?"

"It was the demon again, Bobby."

"Yeah, I gathered that much. What did it want this time?"

"Me. He wanted to make a deal."

Dean let his eyes close so he wouldn't have to see Bobby's reaction.

"What kinda deal?"

"…"

"Dean…"

"He said if I lead his army, I would never have to lose Sammy. But if I didn't, Sam was going to leave in about ten years."

"Please tell me you didn't make that deal…" Bobby felt like _he_ was going to be sick now.

"I wanted to, Bobby. God… I wanted to. But no, I didn't."

Bobby breathed another sigh of relief and patted Dean on the shoulder. "Good boy. You can't listen to a word it says, Dean. Demons lie. You know that, right?"

Dean simply nodded and wiped the last tear from his cheek. The adrenaline was slowly wearing off, leaving his muscles to burn it its wake. He shifted uncomfortably.

"You need more pain meds?" Bobby asked with a frown of concern.

"Nah, I'm good."

Bobby sighed, knowing Dean felt like he deserved the pain for considering the deal. "Son, you did the right thing. Deals are never worth their price."

Dean swallowed convulsively, then quickly changed the subject.

"Bobby? Where's dad?"

Bobby knew Dean changed the subject on purpose, so he let it go for now. He patted Dean's knee in understanding.

"He went to take care of some unfinished business. Why?"

"He went to kill the thing that's been givin' him nightmares, didn't he?"

"How'd you…?"

"The demon told me." A thought occurred to Dean and he tried to force himself into a sitting position, only managing with Bobby's guiding hand on his shoulder. "Bobby, he's expecting dad to do that. That's why he targeted Sam. It's a set up!"

"Damn it… I knew there was somethin' off about all this. Alright. You boys sit tight. I'm gonna go after him."

"I wanna help, Bobby."

"Not gonna happen, son. And if you even _think _of leavin' this bed to follow us, there'll be hell ta pay."

Bobby reached the bedroom door just as Sam, Ethan, and Roger were about to enter.

"Bobby? What's going on?" Roger asked, placing a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder who was looking nervous.

"I'm gonna make sure John's got everythin' under control. Can you keep an eye on these two fer me? Call my cell if anythin' happens."

"You got it."

"And get Dean to take some more pain meds. He's hurtin' whether he'll admit to it or not."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

John finished lighting the last candle and drew the knife across his palm, allowing a few drops of blood into the mixture before him. He made sure the Key of Solomon was complete and directly over where he expected her to appear. Then he stood, preparing for the Mara's arrival. He didn't have to wait long.

"Well I must say this is unexpected. To what do I owe the pleasure?" a soft voice came from behind him. He whirled, simultaneously raising his gun.

"Don't play dumb with me. You've been messin' with my family and I'm putting a stop to it now."

"Oh come on, Johnny. Can't take a few light-hearted jokes? A little teasing once in a while?"

"Light-hearted jokes?! I almost killed my son!"

"Whoa, don't blame _that _on me. That was all your yellow-eyed friend's idea. I just went along with it."

"Yeah? And why's that?"

"Let's just say he made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

"Great, a demon who's seen _The Godfather _too many times..."

He circled to the right, forcing her to head towards the Key where she would be trapped. He had to keep the smile from his face as she obediently walked right into it. She attempted to take one more step and found she could go no further. Glancing up, a flicker of fear flashed in her eyes, making John smirk.

"You know a gun isn't going to hurt me, John."

"Course I do, but I don't need the gun." If it were possible, he could have sworn he saw the demon pale.

"Look, I've got places to go and dreams to disturb. How about we call it even and you let me out?"

"Oh I don't think so, darlin'. You've got only one place to go and I've got your one way ticket right here." John held up the book of exorcisms and a maniacal glint flashed in his eyes.

"NO! You can't do this!"

"Watch me…" He began reading the Latin out loud.

"He's not gonna let them die peacefully, John. He's going to torture them… slowly."

He blocked out her words and continued, raising his own voice as he went.

"He's going to kill everyone you've ever loved! Hell, he'll probably even make you watch. Maybe even participate!"

John glanced up at her just in time to see her eyes change color from black to deep blue and she began chanting under her breath.

Pain pierced through his head as images flooded his mind. Most he recognized from the terrible dreams she had given him, but some were new. Sam. Dean. Mary. There was so much blood. Bobby. Caleb. Pastor Jim. Screaming. Crying. Pain and death.

John dropped the exorcism book and fell to his knees, pressing his palms into his eyes trying to stop the horrible images. He tried to focus on the last few lines of Latin that he had memorized before conjuring the demon, but he couldn't concentrate as he watched himself stabbing Dean all over again and heard Mary screaming how much he failed his family.

"No… Stop it!"

Suddenly there was another voice that began speaking the words he was trying to remember. He focused with all his strength on that voice. It sounded familiar…

There was a horrible scream and the images stopped abruptly. A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, startling him.

"John?"

"Bobby? Thank god."

TBC

Told you I'd update sooner! haha. Please review!!


	33. Under My Watch

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Ethan entered the bedroom first as the doc was preparing another syringe with pain killers in it. He saw Dean laying rigidly across the bed. He approached the bed slowly, afraid to startle the kid who didn't seem to be fully with it just yet.

"Dean? Hey, man… You alright?"

He got no response, so he tried again. He was at the foot of the bed now and tapped Dean on the shin.

"Hey…"

Dean jolted upright before gasping in pain and attempting to curl into a ball to ease the throbbing in his abdomen.

"Easy! Shit, dude… It's just me."

"Ethan?"

"Yeah, man, you alright? You were kinda zoned out for a while there."

"Sorry."

"Seriously, Dean. Status report."

"I'm fine."

"Try for truth this time?"

"I've been better."

"What happened in here?"

"Kinda hard to explain."

"Try me."

"Ethan… Please don't."

"Dean, I was just shoved into a linen closet without explanation. I want to know what's going on."

"Just trust me on this, you don't."

Ethan paused in thought, trying to put all the pieces together. "You guys aren't really hunters, are you?"

"Yeah, we are. Just not in the normal sense of the word."

"This is about what we were discussing at school, isn't it? When I thought we were both being abused and you were thinkin' somethin' else?"

Dean dropped his eyes and nodded.

"Come on, man. You gonna make me keep guessing?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Long as you don't say the world is really flat, I'll believe you. You haven't given me reason not to yet."

"Fine, you want the truth? Help me up."

Ethan held out a hand and grasped Dean's, levering him into a sitting position and placing a few pillows behind his back to prop him up.

"Thanks. You sure you want to hear this? It's gonna change the world for you, but not in a good way."

"Just tell me."

"Okay. You know those supernatural type stories about Dracula, werewolves, spirits, demons…"

"Yeah, what about them?"

"They're true."

"Come again?"

"Well, not every detail. Some of it they botched. But the creatures really do exist. And me and my family… we kill them."

"How much meds are you on?"

Dean looked away again, looking hurt. "Told you you wouldn't believe me."

"Sorry, it's not that I don't believe you, it's just a lot to swallow. So what was here before that had Bobby shoving me into a closet?"

"A demon. _The _demon, really. The one that killed my mom."

"No shit? Jeez… You alright?"

"Yeah, I guess. You?"

"Yeah. I mean, I always knew evil existed. Look at my dad for cryin' out loud. But monsters? Didn't see that comin'."

"Most people don't."

"So you hunt these things, save people's lives, and you don't get paid or thanked for it?"

"That about sums it up."

"Tough gig."

"You have no idea."

"Thanks for tellin' me, dude."

"Thanks for sort of believing me."

Ethan chuckled, not sure what else to do, and an awkward silence fell over the room as each boy became lost in their own thoughts. The silence was interrupted by the doc and Sammy.

"Everything okay in here?" Roger glanced from one boy to the other, unsure which would answer first.

"Just peachy," they answered in unison.

The doc laughed lightly. "You boys have been hanging around each other too much. Dean, I brought you a local anesthetic to numb your wound. Bobby said it was bugging you."

Dean wrapped a protective arm around his stomach and slid higher up the bed, away from the doc.

"Told you I was fine. I don't need it." His words were pointless as the slight shift he made forced him to wince.

"It's just a small pinch, Dean. Nothing to worry about. Then you'll feel much more comfortable."

"Seriously, doc. I don't need it."

Sam strode across the room and slid onto the mattress next to his brother.

"It's okay, Dean. Just get it over with."

"Sammy, I don't…" He stopped abruptly as the bed dipped on the other side of him and he turned to find Ethan sitting there.

He knew they were trying to be supportive, but he just felt caged now. More so as he watched the doc advance towards him.

"Come on, guys. This isn't necessary!"

"Your pain responses say otherwise."

When Dean tried to wrap his other arm over his wound, Ethan took it gently into his own and pulled it away from his body. Sam reached forward and did the same with Dean's other hand, giving the doc clear access.

Dean put up a small struggle, but didn't want to risk hurting Sam or Ethan, not to mention every little movement made his abdomen throb like crazy.

"Just take a deep breath, Dean, and don't look."

Too late. Dean already saw the needle and was ready to puke again. Sam saw Dean's eyes widen and quickly reached up to turn Dean's chin towards himself.

"Look at me, Dean. It's alright."

"Yeah, think about it, dude. It can't hurt worse than a knife to the gut," Ethan supplied, not being very helpful.

Dean tried to turn his head and glare at Ethan, but Sam tightened his grip so he just swallowed back the retort.

He felt the doc pull his shirt up a few inches and shivered as the cold air touched his skin. Then an even colder cotton swab was rubbing an inch or so away from his bandaged wound.

"Hey, doc… Don't you think that's a little close?" He tried to keep the quivering out of his voice but knew he failed miserably. His wound hurt enough already without jabbing a needle in next to it.

"That's kind of the point, kiddo. There may be a slight burn at first, but then it will all go blissfully numb, I promise. Okay. Deep breath, Dean."

Dean did as he was told and jerked back slightly as he felt the sharp tip of the needle pierce his skin and proceed deeper and deeper into his abdomen. He held his breath, unable to let it back out again.

Ethan placed a steadying hand on his shoulder to hold him still and prevent further pain from moving.

"Good… Now just stay as still as possible… Almost done…" The doc slowly pushed down on the plunger, emptying the solution into Dean's system. Dean hissed as he felt the initial burn start to spread. The doc carefully pulled the needle back out and put a bandage over the mark, pressing it gently to stop the bleeding. "There. All set, Dean. You did great."

Sam and Ethan released their holds on him and Dean wrapped his arms protectively around his mid-section once more. Sam gave him a gently one armed hugged.

"How does it feel now?" he asked timidly.

Dean shrugged, feeling slightly betrayed by everyone present. But then the drugs kicked in and the pain was blissfully numbed. He sighed in relief.

"Better."

Roger smiled. "Glad to hear it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Bobby helped John get back on his feet.

"That was a little close fer comfort, John."

"You're tellin' me. I thought you were staying with the boys? How did you find me?"

"Roger's got the boys. And I didn't know where to find you. But I knew the type of place you'd go to summon a demon so I stopped by all the run-down places I could find. Took a couple tries, but here I am."

"Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but how could you leave the boys with Roger? What if somethin' supernatural attacks? Roger's no hunter, and Dean's outta commission."

"I doubt it'll be back before we are, John."

"It… What?"

_Shit. So much for his promise to Dean._ "Old Yeller stopped by just before I left."

"WHAT?!"

"Take it easy, everyone's alright. He was tryin' to convince Dean to make a deal but the kid didn't bite. Apparently he mentioned to Dean that all this was a set up to get you otta the house. So I came by to make sure you were still alive and it's a damn good thing I did."

"Slow down… It tried to make a deal with Dean? What were the terms?"

"Somethin' about yer boys joinin' its army for protection. Said the boys would be together forever that way, otherwise Sam's gonna leave in less than ten years."

"That bastard! How could he hold somethin' like that over Dean's head!"

"Dunno, but it was a close one, let me tell ya."

"Did Dean recognize it? I mean, did it break through his memory charm?"

"John… Dean's remembered everythin' since he had that migraine at the school."

"And when were you plannin' on tellin' me this?"

"Only when and if I had to. The kid made me promise. Said he didn't want to risk you findin' out and makin' him drink that crap again."

"Damn it, Dean…" John whispered to himself, wiping a hand down over his face in thought.

"It's not the kid's fault he doesn't like you screwin' with his head!" Bobby defended.

"I know, I know. We'll figure out a solution to that later. We've got more pressin' issues at hand." He sighed in frustration, forming a plan in his mind. "Alright. Here's what we're gonna do. That thing is gonna come back for Dean. You know it and I know it. But we're gonna be prepared. When Mrs. Prescott and Emma get back, we'll send them, Roger, and Ethan back to the Prescott's home for safety. And we'll wait it out. Provoke it if we have to."

"Hold on now. You want to use Dean for bait?!"

"If that's what it takes."

"You can't be serious, John! After everythin' you've done to him already…"

"We don't have a choice, Bobby! I want this over with. Now."

"And as always, yer willin' to risk everythin' to get what _you _want."

"Damn it, Bobby, if there was any other way…"

"Just get in the damn car. I can't deal with you right now." Bobby turned in a huff and strode back to his truck. He peeled out, intending to get to the boys before John could.

"I'm not gunna let you hurt them again, John. Not under my watch."

TBC

Reviews please!! Helps me update faster!! haha.


	34. We've Got Work to Do

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Bobby returned to the motel shortly after Mrs. Prescott and Emma had returned with the clothes. With the shortest explanation possible, he ushered the whole family back out of the house. Roger paused just outside the doorway.

"Shouldn't I stay, Bobby? I mean… I know you guys have medical training, but…"

"Sorry, Roger. This we're gonna have ta handle ourselves. We'll call if things get rough. You just take your wife and kids as far from here as you can manage."

"Be careful. All of you."

"Same to you." With that, Bobby shut the door and prepared himself to talk to Dean. He knew he only had minutes before John would be pulling into the parking lot. He wasn't that far behind to begin with.

Bobby walked to the bedroom, lurking awkwardly in the doorway. He wasn't sure what to say besides _don't listen to your father. He's finally lost it._

In his heart, he knew that no matter what he said to the kid, it wouldn't prevent him from following his father's orders. That was just how Dean was. Even so, he knew he had to try.

"Hey, Sammy? Can you go keep an eye out fer yer daddy? He should be here soon and might need some help bringin' in supplies."

"Yes, sir." Sam slid off the bed and shuffled into the kitchen where he had the best view outside. Best of all, he was out of ear-shot. Dean could easily tell that this was Bobby's true goal.

"What's up, Bobby? Somethin' wrong?"

"How're you feelin', kid?"

"Numb. Kinda blissful really."

"Good. That's good."

"Bobby? What is it?"

With a resigned sigh, Bobby made his way over to the bed so he could talk quieter and prevent the youngest Winchester from overhearing. He knew Sam would go ballistic if he found out what his father was planning on doing.

"Look, Dean… Yer dad came up with a plan that he hopes will capture the yellow-eyed demon."

"Seriously? That's awesome! Why do I sense a down-side comin'?" Dean's smile faded when Bobby refused to express the same excitement.

Bobby dropped his eyes to the mattress and Dean gulped harshly.

"Well this can't be good. Spill it, Bobby. What's the plan?"

"Yer daddy means well, Dean, but he doesn't always think things through. Promise me you won't follow through if you aren't comfortable with it, okay? Don't let him pressure you into somethin' yer not ready for."

"What is he proposing or somethin'? You're startin' to freak me out, man."

"Dad's back!" Sam shouted from the window before heading to the door to unlock it.

Bobby hurried on. "Promise me, Dean! If yer not up to what he says, you say no, got it?"

"I trust him, Bobby. Whatever he says, it'll work. I'll help in any way I can."

"Dean, you don't underst…"

"Bobby? What's goin' on here?" John asked from the doorway where he stood looking foreboding. "What did you tell him, damn it?!"

"Nothin'. I just said don't let yer father rope you into somethin' yer not ready for. He's a bit off his rocker right now."

"You really believe that? I told you, if you have a better plan…"

"How about run? Get away to fight another day, John. We're not ready for this. Dean sure as hell ain't."

"Helllooooo…. Anyone wanna fill the new guy in?"

John entered the room, shutting the door behind them.

"I think we've found a way to take this thing out. At least, we can exorcise it and send it back to hell where it belongs."

"Got that much. What's the plan?"

"We need to trap it. Someplace where we can control the environment and outcome."

"Someplace like a motel room you mean."

"Exactly. We'll seal off every entrance but one, and we'll set up a devil's trap. Once it's caught, we'll send it packin'."

"One minor detail is still missin'. How're you gonna get it to come back?"

Then the men fell silent, staring daggers at each other. Dean's eyes shifted between them a few times before it dawned on him.

"You need bait. Somethin' to draw it back here. Or should I say some_one_?"

"I'm sorry, son, but there's no other way. We can either let it control what happens, or we can bring the game onto our own turf."

"So what's the problem? I'll sit here, twiddlin' my thumbs until he decides to show his ugly mug again, and you guys come in and end this eleven-year-old nightmare."

"Not that easy I'm afraid. You see, we need to make sure he steps into the devil's trap, and there's really only one way to be sure."

"And what's that?"

"We have to put it directly above yer bed," Bobby responded emotionlessly.

"You have to… Oh." The seriousness of the situation hit Dean like a ton of bricks. He would be trapped in the circle too until either Bobby or his father had time to exorcise the demon.

"I'm sorry, Dean. You know I don't want to put you through this."

"It's okay, dad. If you think it'll work, then…"

"Course it ain't gonna work! The second it realizes what's happenin', it's gonna use Dean to stop us. Hell, it might even kill him right then and there!"

"It won't risk that, Bobby. It wants Dean. It won't kill him."

"I'm not sure which scenario is creepier," Dean jests, trying to lighten the atmosphere and hide his fear.

"You really think if it has to choose between itself and Dean that it'll pick the kid? Now I _know _you've lost it."

"That's enough, Bobby. If you can't handle this, then I suggest you go elsewhere and stay out of the way."

"You think I'm just gonna let you sacrifice the boy?!"

"He's _my _kid, Bobby!"

"Then treat him that way!"

"For God's sake, I'm tryin' to save us all!"

"Not hard enough!" Bobby grabbed the shotgun that was placed in the corner of the room for safety and aimed it at John. "I will not let your revenge go so far as riskin' what little you've got left!"

"Guys! Stop it!" Dean shouted, feeling helpless stuck in bed while the two men were ready to fight to the death only a few feet away. "I'll do it, okay? It's fine, Bobby. Put the gun down. Please."

"Dean, you don't…"

"I do, Bobby. I fully understand what has to go down, but dad's right. There's no other way right now. We have to end this, or it's gonna rule our lives."

"What, are you two sniffin' the same glue or somethin'?"

"Hey, Bobby, what's all the yell…?" Sam froze in the doorway, taking in the gun pointed at his father. "Bobby?"

Bobby's eyes swung over to the youngest Winchester's and the raw fear in them shattered his resolve. He lowered the gun. "Ask yer father." With that, he stormed out of the room before he did something drastic.

For a long while, none of the Winchesters moved. It was a toss-up as to whether they were even still breathing or not. Finally, Sam broke the silence with a barely audible whisper.

"Daddy?"

"Everything's fine, kiddo. Go grab my bag from the kitchen for me, will ya?"

"But dad…"

"Now, Sam."

Sam stalked from the room, grumbling to himself about always having to take orders. Dean stayed silent in his bed, waiting for his own orders. He wasn't expecting to see the mixed emotions clouding his father's eyes.

"How're you feelin', Dean?"

"I'm good, dad."

"You don't have to do this, you know?"

Dean knew what that meant. His father was looking for absolution. If Dean decided to do it of his own free will, then John wouldn't have to keep blaming himself. Dean willingly gave what was needed.

"I know. I want to. I want this thing dead, no matter what it takes."

John nodded silently, not to mention gratefully. "We've got work to do then."

TBC

Sorry guys, but I'm getting these updates up as quickly as I can! Please review! Any ideas to feed my muse are greatly appreciated. Anything you want to see in upcoming chapters?


	35. Now We Wait

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

"Uh… Dad? I think you grabbed the wrong shaker. Last time I knew, pepper wasn't good for anything 'cept makin' you sneeze."

"Just trust me on this, alright, Dean?"

"Yes, sir."

Dean tried not to fidget too much and give away the fact he was extremely uncomfortable with this whole plan. He tore his eyes away from his father to glance up at Bobby who was putting the finishing touches on the devil's trap.

John used the goofer dust to seal off every entrance except for the window closest to the closet. The plan was that even if the demon managed to avoid the devil's trap, Bobby would be able to burst out of the closet once the thing was in the room and seal off its only way out, effectively trapping it. John would cover the bedroom door from the hallway with his favorite shotgun and the exorcism book. He knew he couldn't work both at the same time. Sam would have to read the exorcism, but that meant he'd have to fill the youngest Winchester in, and that wouldn't be pretty by any means.

Once Sam had brought his father the requested bag of weapons, he was instructed to start cleaning the rest of the weapons at the kitchen table. He could hear his father and Bobby setting stuff up in the bedroom, but had no visual on what was happening. Orders or no orders… He was going to find out what was going down.

Sam rose slowly from his chair and crept to the door. Staying in the shadows, he could see Bobby standing on a chair next to Dean's bed, drawing some strange round symbol on the ceiling. His father was out of sight, but when Sam looked down and saw the black powdery substance lining the doorway, he had a guess as to what the eldest Winchester was doing.

Sammy wasn't sure of what was happening, but one look at his brother and he could tell it was making Dean nervous and that made him angry. Dean's eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he notice his little brother watching. Bobby saw Dean stiffen just below him and glanced over at the doorway as well. Sam knew he was busted, so he carefully stepped over the line and entered the bedroom.

"Dad? What's going on?"

John looked up from the line he was laying across the far window.

"Sam. I thought I told you to clean the weapons? You can't possibly be done already."

"I just wanted to see what was happening. What is that stuff?"

"Don't worry about it. It'll work."

"Work for what?"

"Sam, we don't have time for this."

"Why not?! Just tell me what's happening and I'll get out of your hair! What is that thing for above Dean's bed?"

"It's all for protection, okay? Everythin's gonna be fine."

"Protection from what?"

"Evil."

"You think that thing is gonna come back again?"

"Back in the kitchen, Sam."

Sam glanced around the room again, putting two and two together. He glanced at Dean who immediately dropped his eyes.

"You're counting on it coming back, aren't you? What, are you gonna summon the thing here?!"

"Kitchen. Now."

"No! Not without Dean."

"Dean's staying exactly where he is."

"What? Why?"

"Sam… Don't…" Dean warned, locking pleading eyes with his brother. Then it hit Sam like a sucker punch to the gut.

"Oh my god… You're going to use him as bait, aren't you?! How can you…?!"

"That's enough! We have to work together on this, Sam. In fact, if you want to keep Dean safe, we're gonna need your help."

"What? No! I'm not gonna help you get him killed! Bobby, you have to stop him!"

"Believe me, kid, I tried. We'll do whatever we have to ta keep yer brother safe though."

Sam looked pleadingly at Bobby, then back at his father, then finally at Dean.

"Dean… No. Please don't do this."

"It's the only way, Sammy. I'll be alright. I mean, I've got all you guys watchin' my back, right?"

"No. If you agree to this, I'm leaving. I'm not gonna sit by and watch you get yourself killed."

John took a placating step towards his youngest. "We need your help, Sam."

"For what?"

"I need you to read the incantation so I can cover Dean with the shotgun."

"So, you can't do this without me?"

"Not easily."

"Good. Then don't do it at all."

"Sam, the thing that keeps showin' up and harrassin' you boys needs to be stopped. We can end it here and now."

"At what cost?!"

"I won't let him kill your brother, Sam. I swear I won't let it happen."

"Great, but I didn't hear anything about not letting him get hurt! He can't take much more, dad! He's already a mess no thanks to you!"

"Sammy, don't do this," his brother pleaded from his prone position on the bed.

Both boys had tears in their eyes, longing to be shed, and yet not one tear fell. John had trained his boys well.

John allowed them a few moments to process everything and reach out for each other's support before breaking the pain-filled silence.

"Come with me, Sammy."

Sam shook his head, moving closer to Dean's bed as John continued towards him.

"I want to stay here with Dean."

"Not an option. I'm not gonna risk… Just get in the kitchen. Now."

Sam turned resignedly back to look at Dean and a lone tear managed to escape and made its way down his cheek.

"Be careful, Dean."

Dean swallowed back the lump in his throat and nodded. The youngest Winchester wiped the tear from his cheek and strode out of the room, refusing to look back.

Dean dropped his head into his hands, using the added darkness to collect himself again. After all, if he was going to be up against the demon again, he couldn't be falling to pieces. He needed to be sharp.

Bobby dropped down from the chair next to him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You hang in there, son."

John loaded his gun and snapped it shut.

"This ends tonight."

The hours ticked by slowly as Bobby and John checked and rechecked the symbols and lines of goofer dust, occasionally running through the plan together. Dean tried to conceal his nervousness but knew he was failing miserably. There was a huge difference between finding courage when a situation presented itself, and holding on to courage when you know how badly the situation could end.

Dean's pain reliever wore off about an hour ago, but he didn't want to be drugged up when the demon showed in case he had to protect himself. As the pain came back, he was terrified it would limit his fighting abilities.

"How're you doin', Champ?" Bobby asked as he checked over the room once more.

"Fine."

The old friend wasn't fooled by the short response. "Pain is back, huh?"

"The meds wore off a little while ago. No big deal."

"You need some more?"

"NO! I… I don't wanna risk it."

Bobby nodded, wishing there was something he could do to make this all easier on the boy he considered his own son.

"Then at least let me check it." Bobby pulled Dean's sheets down to the boy's knees. Dean was still sitting up, slightly reclined against his pillows. Bobby lifted the boy's shirt a few inches and gently peeled back a corner of the bandage to get a look at the stitches.

With slightly added pressure, he was able to find a few small sections that were still bleeding and the edges of the wound were looking a little redder than he would have liked, but it was still on its way to healing.

"Doc got you on any antibiotics?"

"Not that I know of. It was probably in the IV," Dean admitted sheepishly. "Now he mostly gives me pain killers."

"Well, when this is all over, I want you on both, ya hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Dean smirked, giving a mock salute.

"You ready for this?"

"As ready as I can be."

"Try to get some rest. We don't even know if it'll show tonight."

"Rest. Ha. Yeah, right."

"Don't worry. We'll keep an eye out."

The room fell silent again as Bobby took up his post in the closet and John and Sam prepared themselves for a long night in the kitchen hallway. Surprisingly, it took less time than Dean expected for him to be lulled to sleep by the silence and constant throbbing cadence in his abdomen.

Sam stood close to his dad, keeping his eyes trained on his brother's still form. He clenched the exorcism book close to his chest. "Now what?" he whispered.

"Now? Now we wait."

TBC

The silence is only temporary as always! YED is on his way… Comments? Ideas?


	36. From Bait to Bargaining Chip

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Sam was the first to notice the glowing eyes just outside the unlined window. "Dad!" he hissed and nudged John before pointing out the intruder. "We have to wake Dean up!"

"No. It can't know we're here. Stay silent and don't move until I say otherwise, got it?"

"But, Dean…!"

"Quiet! Focus, Sam!"

They both watched as the window opened itself and the demon crawled in like a slinking cat. With a smug smirk on its face at having caught the middle Winchester off guard, it practically strutted to the bed but stopped just outside of the trap.

Sam could feel the anger and disappointment radiating off his father.

The demon simply stood there, admiring his future general as the boy slept. It seemed to be taking sick pleasure in the fact that Dean's rest was anything but peaceful.

Dean was caught up in another nightmare. The flames kept rising higher, people were screaming; some voices he recognized and others he did not. The demon rose out of the flames, laughing manically at him. Dean's gut clenched when he realized the demon was carrying a baby Sammy in his arms.

"No…" He wanted to shout but his voice only came out as a whisper. Nevertheless, the demon heard it, as did everyone else hidden by the darkness of the motel room.

Sam tensed and prepared to call out, fearing for his brother's life, but John clamped a hand over his mouth and wrapped his other arm around Sam's chest, effectively keeping him in place.

A sickly pale hand reached through the devil's trap and stroked its fingers lovingly through Dean's short, sweaty hair. "Shhh…" it cooed.

"Step inside the trap, goddamn it…" John whispered as though willing the demon to follow his orders.

Bobby was itching to burst out of his hiding place and throw every curse and banishing spell he could think of at the demon. "Get yer damn hands off of 'im," he growled so that only he would hear. As much as he hated it, he knew he couldn't blow the plan now. It was an unneeded risk to Dean's life, and it was half his fault the boy had agreed to being bait in the first place.

The elder man wanted to throw up when he heard the boy's pleading whimper, unsure from his angle whether Dean was awake yet or not.

They all watched as the demon slowly tilted his head sideways as though listening and a smile spread across his face. If John hadn't known better, he would have thought the demon knew they were all there, just out of eyesight. The thought sent chills up his spine.

Yellow eyes slid his cold fingers down the side of Dean's face and gently cupped his cheek before tapping it a few times. "Rise and shine, kiddo!"

Dean jolted back to consciousness, his eyes widening as they latched on to the owner of the cold hand. "What the…?!" He shoved the demon's hand away while his other hand moved automatically towards the knife he always kept underneath his pillow. Only when he failed to find the sturdy hilt did he remember Sam had removed it for safety purposes.

Sam's heart sank to his stomach as he watched his brother try to fend for himself, remembering that he still had Dean's knife tucked away in his bag for safe keeping. He pulled his father's hand away from his mouth. "Dad!" he hissed. "Dean's not armed!"

"I know," was the only reply he got.

Sam swallowed hard and turned his full attention back to the demon hovering over Dean.

"Hate to barge in again so soon, but we were interrupted last time. Got some unfinished business to attend to," the demon began.

"Such as?"

"I forgot to show you the biggest perk of joining the dark side."

"Care to elaborate?" Dean asked warily while trying to subtly slide himself up the bed and away from the demon. The creature's smile grew.

"Where're you goin', Champ?"

Next thing Dean knew, he was pulled back down and pinned flat to the mattress with his hands locked tightly above his head. He gasped and winced at the pressure, struggling against the invisible bonds.

In the hallway, Sam was beyond frantic. "Dad! It's going to hurt him! We have to do something, now!"

"Just wait a second, Sam! It's still not in the circle! This could be our last chance to get this right. Don't make me knock you unconscious."

Bobby looked to the hall for the signal but didn't receive it. "Damn it, John! What are we waitin' for?"

The demon threw the blankets off of Dean and smirked as it slowly slid an ice cold hand underneath the boy's flimsy t-shirt. If Dean wasn't panicking before, he certainly was now.

"Hey! What are you…?!"

"Shh… Don't worry, you're not my type. My gift to you, to prove how useful it would be to have me on your side. I could protect you, and I could protect Sammy."

The hand settled over the wound in Dean's abdomen. The boy's breath hitched, fearing the pain he was sure he was about to feel. He wasn't disappointed. The pressure against the wound increased and Dean gritted his teeth together, breathing harshly as he tried to control the pain.

"That's it… Stay with me, kid…" the demon praised.

Dean's struggles increased but were no match for the demon's hold over him. Then the cold was replaced by burning heat and he cried out, throwing his head back into the mattress, every tendon in his body taut to the point of tearing as he fought against the agony.

"Stop! Please!" he cried out, losing all control of his pain responses.

To his bewilderment, the pain did stop. Only a memory of it remained, burning dully through his sore and abused body.

The demon smirked again and lifted Dean's shirt till the bandage was visible. Dean was allowed to lift his head a few inches so that he could see as well. The creature peeled the bandage away and Dean gasped in shock. The wound was no more than a neat scar.

"How…? Why…?" He struggled to get his thoughts in order.

"Think about it, Dean. What use are you to me if you're crippled with pain or dying? By my side, you and your brother would be spared from both. That's a hell of a lot more than your dad could ever promise, isn't it?"

"Get the hell away from me! I'm not going to fall for your shit again!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like me to put the wound back?"

Dean tried to control his fear, but the glint in the demon's eyes told him he failed miserably. "If that's what it takes to get you out of my life, then go ahead. Do it."

"You must really think I'm a cold-hearted bastard. I don't want to cause you pain, son. I want to make you be all you can be. I'd be a better father than John ever was. By the way, I know you're out there, Johnny Boy. Little Sammy. Bobby Singer."

John had no reason to hold back anymore and he exploded. "Get the hell away from my boy! He doesn't want anything to do with you!" He let loose both shells from his shotgun, hitting the demon squarely in the chest. They had no impact what-so-ever.

"John, John, John… You know better than that. Salt is one of my favorite condiments."

Bobby burst forth from the closet and quickly lined the last window, effectively trapping the creature in the room, whether he stepped inside the trap or not. The demon laughed.

"Oh, very clever, boys. What are you going to do now? Do tell. This is so amusing I can hardly wait to hear."

"We're gonna send you back to hell where you belong. Sammy, start readin'." He kept one eye on the demon as he reloaded his gun.

Sam pulled himself together as much as he could and began reading the Latin from the spell book. The demon didn't so much as flinch. Dean bounded from the bed, making a valiant effort to reach the hall but was thwarted by the demon.

"Leaving so soon? I think not."

Dean was blasted sideways into the wall and slumped to the floor in a daze. Bobby was making his way over to him when the demon used his powers to shove Bobby back into the closet and seal the doors shut.

Yellow eyes strode over to Dean and pinned him back up against the wall with a hand to his throat. "What's it gonna be, John? Let me outta here, or say goodbye to your eldest?"

"You're bluffing," John snarled, wishing the salt had some affect on the creature and feeling useless for not having a backup.

"Am I? Do you really want to take that chance?" He tightened his grip on Dean's throat. Dean was starting to break out of his stupor and wrapped his own hands around the demon's wrists, trying to pry them from his neck as his oxygen supply was effectively cut off.

"I told you I didn't want to hurt you, Dean. You have your father to thank for this. All he has to do is let me go, but he'd rather see me torture you. I find that to be a bit sadistic, don't you?"

Sam paused long enough to look into his father's fierce eyes, pleading with him to just let the demon go so Dean would be okay.

"Keep reading, Sam," he growled. Sam snapped his eyes back onto the book and continued, struggling against the lump in his throat.

"You really think that spell is gonna work on somethin' like me? You'll have to do better than that, Johnny."

Realizing the demon wasn't impressed or affected by the spell, not to mention the fact that Dean was starting to turn blue, John caved, defeated.

"Alright! Just let him go!"

"Oh I don't think so. I need a little reassurance that you'll let me out without a problem. Future Boy is comin' with me until I get out of this house."

"Not a chance in hell, and he's not involved in your future whatsoever, except maybe to kill you." John growled, shooting down what he thought the demon meant by "Future Boy."

"Think more the past than the future. It's complicated, I know."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, it's too easy to tell you. I'd rather see you struggle. Do you really want to go into detail now? Cause I don't think your boy can take much more oxygen deprivation."

"You're not taking Dean."

"Guess I could just kill him here then." It made as though it were going to snap Dean's neck, turning the now half unconscious boy's neck at an awkward angle.

"Wait! Please. I'll let you out, just don't hurt him anymore."

"Glad we have an understanding. I will leave him at the end of the driveway. Now break the salt line."

"Why should I believe you won't just take Dean and go?"

"What choice do you have? Dean will surrender to his darker nature without me forcing him to, and I will come back for him then. For now, his only use is as a shield."

Without another word, John kicked the salt line apart and stepped aside, pulling Sam with him. The demon loosened its hold on Dean's throat who drew in a desperate breath of air before the creature pulled him forward a foot, then slammed him back into the wall, effectively knocking him unconscious. It cradled Dean's fragile body in its arms and carried him out of the bedroom and then the front door.

It carried its precious cargo all the way to the entrance sign of the motel, then placed him gently on the ground. "Remember this day, Dean Winchester. Your dad will raise you as a soldier, and you will stand by my side and torture innocent souls before the end. Don't disappoint me." With that, it vanished into thin air.

TBC

How'd I do? Please review!


	37. Past the Present

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

SPOILER ALERT!!! Lots of spoilers for 4.03.

John was waiting in the doorway, keeping a close eye on the demon as it carried his son away. Just as he was about to say "that's far enough," he watched in bewilderment as it stopped of its own accord, placed Dean carefully on the ground, whispered something to him, then winked at John and vanished into thin air. John was by his son's side seconds later.

As he dropped to his knees and began checking Dean over, he heard Sam and Bobby coming up behind him. Bobby was clutching the first aid kit, and Sam had tears streaming down his face as he landed on the other side of his brother.

"Oh god… Dean! Is he breathing? Is he okay?"

John moved to check Dean's caryatid artery for a pulse. Noticing the severe bruising on his son's throat, he switched tactics and held one hand a few inches over Dean's mouth, placing the other on his chest. After a few anxious seconds that seemed like an eternity, he felt the warm breath and soft rise and fall of Dean's chest.

"He's breathing."

Bobby wiped a shaking hand over his face. "Thank god… Can you rouse him?"

Sam curled a hand around his brother's wrist and watched anxiously as his dad tapped Dean's cheek, trying to wake him up.

"Dean? Can you hear me, son? Bobby, go grab me a blanket from one of the beds, will ya? It's freezin' out here."

"You got it, John."

He knew Bobby was halfway to the door already without even looking up. John gently cupped Dean's chin and tilted his head to the side, trying to see if the back of his head was bleeding or not from colliding with the wall. The further he turned Dean's head, the deeper the frown lines on his son's forehead grew. Only then did he realize he was making it hard for Dean to breath due to the bruising on his throat. _Stupid…Sorry, kiddo._ He carefully turned his son's head again till he was facing straight up and tilted his neck back, allowing Dean to breath easier.

"Why won't he wake up, dad?" Sam's voice was trembling, and John highly doubted it was because of the cold.

"Gotta give him a little time, Sammy. He hit his head pretty good."

Bobby returned with the quilt from John's bed and handed it over to the increasingly worried father. John draped it over Dean's limp form, hoping to keep him warm and trying to figure out the easiest way to move him back inside without causing further damage or pain to his boy.

Bobby seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "Need some help, John? I can grab his legs…"

"No. I'll get him. Just get the door. Get back inside, Sam. Don't need you catching a cold on top of everything else."

"But, Dean…!"

"I've got it, Sam. Go."

"Yes, sir," Sam grumbled. He gently squeezed his brother's wrist before relinquishing his hold. As he passed Bobby, the older man put a comforting arm around his shoulders and led him back towards the door, glancing over his shoulder to make sure John really didn't need his help.

"Hang in there, son," John muttered quietly as he hoisted Dean's body into his arms. He wrapped the blanket around him tighter, then stood to his full height looking like the stoic hero carrying the damsel in distress away from the terrible monster.

Though Dean's muscular form was by no means light, John barely felt the boy's weight as he carried him all the way into the bedroom and placed him gently on the far bed. He thumbed Dean's spiky bangs back into place and was only half aware of Bobby and Sam inching closer.

Sam made to move to his brother's side again, but Bobby caught him gently by the shoulders and held him still. John needed a minute, and Bobby knew it was only complete concentration that was keeping the man from exploding. He didn't want Sam caught in the line of fire.

"John?" he prodded carefully.

The eldest Winchester didn't look up from his son, but his voice came out in carefully controlled measures, clearly on the brink of snapping.

"What the hell happened, Bobby? Why didn't it work?"

Bobby sighed and swallowed before answering. "I've never seen a demon that powerful before. He was immune to the spell. I'm sorry, John. I had no idea."

"Damn it, Bobby! I could have lost my son!"

Sam went from scared to pissed in less than three seconds. "Don't blame it all on Bobby! You should have stopped the stupid plan when I told you to instead of letting Dean get hurt!"

Bobby tightened his grip on Sam's shoulders and moved them both back a step, afraid John might lash out without intending to. That didn't stop Sam from speaking his mind.

"I _told _you Dean wasn't armed, I _told _you we should've woken Dean up! But no! You wanted some macho showdown with the damn thing and you almost got him killed!"

John stood abruptly and turned to face his youngest with fury written all over his face. "That could have been our only chance, Sam! That thing should've died tonight. Then it would have all been over…"

"What the hell are you talking about? What was that thing?"

John froze, having forgotten that Sam still had no idea that this demon was what had murdered Mary. The thought of having failed his wife yet again practically brought the man to his knees. He wanted to avenge her murder. He wanted his boys safe and never have to spend another night awake, fearing it would come after them when he least expected it. He had allowed his hopes to control the situation, and in doing so, almost got his eldest killed. He risked Dean's life on the mercy of a demon. What had he been thinking? He was just so damn tired of it all.

Bobby watched as the fight left the other man and John sank back onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. It was painful to watch the legendary hunter crumble right in front of him. But he couldn't blame the man. He had come so close to throwing off the weight he had been carrying for eleven years, only to fail in the last few moments. He was within arms reach of peace and safety, and in the end almost lost everything. He couldn't let Sam witness his father's destruction.

"Hey, Sammy? You mind goin' ta throw a pot of coffee on for us? Think we're gonna need it."

Sam's fight had left him when it left his father. At first, all he wanted was to make his dad pay for putting his brother in harms way yet again. But now, he'd do just about anything to take it back. The defeated look on his father's face was like a knife in his heart. He nodded at Bobby's request and left the room silently.

Once Sam was out of sight, Bobby sighed deeply and took a seat next to his broken friend. "Now's not the time for the blame game, John. As always, we've just gotta learn from our mistakes and make damn sure they don't happen again. We'll kill this thing. I swear if it's the last thing we do. But yer boys need to come first, you hear me? They matter more than revenge."

"You don't understand, Bobby," John mumbled out from between his hands. "This was all for them. I can't sleep anymore, thinkin' that damn thing will sneak in again like it did with Mary… If I had just gone to bed that night instead of staying up till the end of the game, he might never have hurt her."

"Don't start playin' the what-if game. You just gotta let the past be, John."

"I can't. She died cause of me, Bobby."

"Now that's the stupidest thing you've said all night…"

"I'm serious. I should have realized it before! Damn it!"

"John? What the hell are you on about?"

"Mary wasn't the first person that thing killed."

"I assumed as much. Thing's probably been around for centuries…"

"No. I mean, it killed her parents."

"Come again?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Cambell. Twenty-one years ago, in Lawrence, Kansas. The night I was going to propose to her. We were going to elope, actually. I promised I'd take her away."

"Hold on now. Start at the beginnin' so I can keep up with ya."

"Fine. On April 30th, 1973, I met this kid in Jay's Diner. He was beyond strange. Had no idea where he was or how he got there. Asked about reception for some sort of communication device that belonged to the USS Enterprise. Now that I think about it, it looked a helluva lot like a cell phone. But of course we didn't have those back then…"

"Where're you goin' with this, John?"

"The kid's name was Dean. Dean VanHalen."

"Yer joshin' me."

"Should've realized it when Dean wanted the Impala so bad…"

"Wait, _your _Dean? Yer losing me, John."

"It's complicated, but I'll try to explain. You see, back then, I'd never met this kid and had no idea who he was, but I had this strange feeling that I _did_ know him somehow. He kept followin' me around, though he came up with excuses for why we kept 'randomly' bumping into each other. I was gonna buy Mary's VW that day, but the kid talked me into buying the six-year-old Impala next to it."

"Strange coincidence?"

John chuckled humorlessly. "You know better than that, Bobby. There aren't any coincidences in our line of work. Anyways, I bought the damn thing and took it home. Mary wasn't over the moon about it, but it grew on her. The kid said it was still gonna be bad-ass when it was forty, and he was damn right."

"What's this got to do with Mary and the boys?"

"Though Mary always said she named Dean after her mother, Deanna, I think this kid had something to do with it too. And Sammy was named for her dad, Samuel."

"John, I really don't have a clue what yer…"

"The demon called Dean 'Future Boy'. Bobby, I think I met Dean before he was even born." Bobby just gaped at John, at a loss for words, so John continued. "I think he was there as a warning."

"A warning for what?"

"I never told you this before, but I died that night. Somethin' Mary did brought me back to life, and then she died exactly ten years later. I should have figured it out!"

"John, you weren't a hunter then. You had no idea the supernatural even existed."

Tears were streaming unchecked down John's face, but he ignored them and continued. "I should have. She was going to tell me something important about herself that night, but I wasn't ready to listen. Then her dad showed up, and though I didn't know it then, I know now that he was possessed by the yellow-eyed son-of-a-bitch. He snapped my neck like a twig."

"Jesus…"

"Next thing I knew, I was waking up in Mary's arms. I think I saw Dean one more time, but he disappeared seconds later, so it might have just been in my head. But her dad was lying there, dead. We found out shortly afterwards that her mom was killed too."

"I'm sorry, John."

"Exactly ten years… She made a deal with the damn thing to save my ass. I was dead, Bobby. And I should've stayed dead. Look what came of it. Now Mary is gone, and it did something to Sammy as a baby. As far as I can tell, he's still a normal boy. Maybe whatever it was trying to do didn't work… And I almost lost Dean tonight."

"He's a tough kid. He'll be alright. Long as that thing didn't do any extra damage. God, with the way the boy was screamin'…"

"Shit! You're right. I forgot, his wound…"

John wiped the few stray tears from his face and turned his attention back to his son, fully in soldier mode once more. The chick flick moment was over. He needed to be there for his boys now.

He carefully unwrapped the quilt from Dean's slightly shivering form, then lifted his t-shirt up towards his ribs. Both men were shocked to find a scar where the deep gouge used to be. John reached out tentatively, running his fingers over the slightly raised flesh.

Without warning, Dean gasped, latched on to John's wrist, and tried to sit up all at the same time.

"It's alright! It's just me, Dean. You're safe. Easy does it…"

As soon as he heard his father's soothing voice, Dean released his grip on John's wrist and brought both hands to his temples as pain ricocheted through his battered skull.

"Ah! Damn it…"

John gripped him by the shoulders and held his boy at arm's length to get a good look at him.

"Dean? You alright?"

"Ugh… My head…" Dean doubled over, placing his forehead against John's shoulder. His father automatically wrapped his arms around him in comfort, trying to sooth away his pain and steady him.

"Easy, kiddo. You took quite a knock to the head. Bobby, can you make sure he's alright?"

With John still holding his boy tightly, Bobby was able to slide his fingers through Dean's hair, looking for any bumps or cuts from the impact. When he came upon a raised lump at the very back of Dean's skull, the boy hissed and gripped on to his father's shirt for support.

Bobby parted Dean's hair to get a better look at the damage and was relieved to find it was only a bump and there was no blood. "I'll get you some ice to help numb it. Be right back."

John began slowly rocking his boy, hoping the steady rhythm would help ease his ragged breathing and sure enough, Dean began to breathe at the same pace. "Atta boy. Nice and easy…. You're alright."

"Dad?" he groaned. "What happened? Did we get it?"

"It's gone for now, Dean. Just let _me_ worry about it. How's your abdomen? Did it hurt you?"

"I'm so sorry, dad."

"What? Why?" John was completely taken aback.

"I screwed up. I let it use me against you, and it got away."

"Dean, none of this is your fault, okay? Hell, I shouldn't have used you as bait in the first place. Please answer my question, kiddo. Did he hurt you?"

"Just my head. Feels like he cracked my skull open. The knife wound doesn't really hurt anymore."

Dean shivered in his father's arms, so John pulled the blanket back up over his son's shoulders. Bobby came in with the ice, and the eldest Winchester eased it against Dean's head. The boy jerked away with a yelp at first contact, but then forced his muscles to relax as the ice began to numb the pain. He laid his head back down against his father's shoulder who wrapped his free hand around Dean and put his cheek against his son's head, resuming their gently rocking.

Sam paused in the doorway, carrying two steaming cups of coffee. He smiled, mainly because he was relieved to see his brother awake, but also because of the father-son bonding moment. They happened few and far between these days. To any outsider, the small Winchester family would appear to be deceivingly functional for a change.

TBC

Sorry for the long wait everyone! I've been completely bogged down with final projects and papers, but the semester is finally over and I can get back to writing! This story is finally coming to a close, so if you have any last minute ideas you'd like to see before the end, just let me know! There will be some more bonding and brotherly banter to come, as well as the return of Ethan, Emma, and the Prescotts towards the end. Thanks for sticking with me after all this time! Hope this extra long chapter makes up for it!! And happy holidays everyone!!!!! I hope this small bonding moment brings you all cheer.


	38. Kinda Antisocial

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

John eased his eldest back to arm's length away, keeping the ice on the back of Dean's head. "Kiddo, I know it's hard to tell right now, but I need to know if the pain you feel is just from the knock or if you've got a migraine too. Think about it before you answer. It's really important."

"Ugh…. Hurts enough to be a migrane…" At his father's worried look, Dean quickly consoled him. "Don't worry, dad. He's gone right now. I swear." Dean's voice was raspy and sounded painful, making John and Bobby suspect some damage was done to the kid's throat besides the bruising. Only after the words left his mouth did he realize what he had given away and he paled slightly. Bobby dragged Sam back into the kitchen stating they should make some more coffee.

John frowned, his focus solely on his eldest now. "How can you be sure?"

Dean quickly tried to deflect. "Uh… Instincts?"

The eldest Winchester had his doubts. "Hang on, why do you think the demon is linked with your migraines?"

Dean sighed. Of course his father wouldn't let those few words go. "Don't play dumb, dad. I know you know there's a link. Always has been. He gets too close or wants to screw around with my head and I get hit with a migraine."

John looked taken aback. "How long have you known?"

"Long enough."

"What else have you figured out?"

"Just the obvious. He's tryin' to turn me and Sammy against you for his stupid army." He purposefully left out all the details he remembered from the demon's first attack. After all, he wanted to keep the few memories he had left and he knew John wouldn't let him.

"Dean, what do you remember from before you passed out?"

"I didn't _pass _out, I was _knocked _out," came the indignant reply. Dean sighed at his father's _I don't give a damn, just answer the question _face. "I remember wakin' up to his cold, dead hands on my face, then realizing Sammy still has my knife, **which I would like back now by the way**…!" he added loud enough for his little brother to hear in the kitchen. "I remember the excruciating pain in my abdomen when the pervert healed the knife wound. Felt like he was welding it shut."

"Gotta say he did a decent job of it too," John admitted reluctantly.

Dean wrapped a protective hand around his midsection as the memory made it twinge with pain. He moved on quickly, skipping the part where he pleaded with the demon to stop the torturous pain. "I remember listening to his boring speech about joining his team and 'being all I can be'… Seriously, he needs new material. He figured out you three were there, then I tried to make it to the other side of the salt lines and he kicked my ass. Wait a sec, how did it get away? I thought you guys had it surrounded by salt?"

"We did, but he was going to kill you. We didn't have a choice."

"Yeah, you did! Why didn't you just send its ass packin' back to hell? I could've held out long enough."

"The spell wasn't working and you were turnin' blue, so I think we made the right call."

"But it's still out there now! Even if it took me with it, you could have left it trapped in this room until you found a spell that worked. Then at least you and Sammy would've been safe."

"Not an option. I've lost enough to that bastard. I wasn't gonna lose you too. I don't say it often enough, but you're a big part of this family and a huge asset to the hunting world, Dean."

Bobby cleared his throat loudly from the doorway where he had apparently been listening and sent John a menacing glare, clearly telling him to get his priorities straight.

"What I'm tryin' to say, kiddo, is that I risked your life by making you bait and it was a huge mistake."

Dean hung his head in shame. "I'm sorry I blew it, dad."

"That's not the kind of mistake I'm talkin' about. Dean, you're my son, and I love you and Sammy more than anything else in this whole world. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"So yes, it got away this time. But we'll get it. Don't worry."

Sam slipped past Bobby in the doorway and made his way back to his brother's side, sitting on the bed next to him.

John gave his eldest a calculating look before continuing. "Right now, we need to get you back into shape. You look like hell."

"Gee, thanks."

Bobby and John laughed. Dean let out a small chuckle at Sam's goofy grin and high pitched giggle, but stopped abruptly and brought a hand to his sore throat. The laughter died instantly.

"Dean?" John prodded.

"'m fine." He quickly dropped his hand to his lap again.

John took hold of his son's chin as he had done outside and gently turned Dean's head to the left and tilted it back. Dean winced at the angle but didn't say anything. John watched the boy's face as he turned his neck in the other direction, checking the extent of the bruising. Finally, he released his grip and Dean eased his head back to its original position.

"Those look pretty deep, kiddo." His dad sounded concerned.

"Nah, it'll be fine," Dean answered hoarsely.

"You know you have an unhealthy relationship with that word?" Bobby interjected.

"Well with the way he looks right now, it's the only relationship he's gonna get for a while," Sam teased.

"I've still got my charm, Sammy. I'm unstoppable. Hell… I'm Batman."

"Yeah, you're Batman…" Sam teased back while rolling his eyes.

"You're startin' to sound like 'im too," Bobby replied, then went to grab Dean a glass of water.

John gently prodded the bruising around Dean's throat. The boy grimaced but didn't pull back or push his father away. He didn't like the frown on his father's face.

"What is it?" he croaked.

"You clearly have dysphonia, but I want to make sure it's nothing worse."

"Dis… what?"

"A hoarseness to your voice that comes from strangulation. Can you swallow for me?"

"Do I have to?"

"Well you just answered one of my questions, but I'd like to see if everything is still working properly."

Dean nodded resignedly but took one last attempt at getting out of it. "My mouth is too dry. I've got nothin' to swallow."

"That's why you keep me around," Bobby called from the hall as he made his way back to the bedroom, glass of water in hand. Dean grumbled under his breath, and though John couldn't discern any of the words, he was pretty sure they weren't meant to be friendly. However, he knew better than to whack his injured son in the back of the head for being rude right now.

Dean took the offered glass and poured a small sip into his mouth. He held it there for a while, afraid to swallow, but with a look from his father, he did as he was asked. Pain flared through his throat as the water intruded down the bruised pipe and he nearly coughed it back up again.

John patted him gently on the back until Dean stopped coughing, then switched to a rubbing motion to comfort him.

"Odynophagia. Sorry, kiddo, but I needed to know. I think that bastard damaged your larynx too."

"Lovely…" Dean coughed out.

"How's your breathing?"

"Fine when I'm not coughin' my brains out."

John checked Dean's eyes for any signs of concussion and was relieved to find none. Finally, something was going right.

"Alright, keep this ice on the back of your head for another fifteen minutes. With any luck, the swelling won't be too bad."

A beeping from the kitchen informed Bobby that the coffee was ready. When John gave him a few silent signals, he told Sam he needed some help serving. Apparently John wasn't done with his heart-to-heart just yet.

Dean looked at his father nervously when it was just the two of them again. _Please don't ask me about the attack at the Prescott's place…_ When John didn't say anything for a few seconds, Dean jumped in, unable to take the awkward silence any more.

"Dad?"

That spurred the elder man into conversation. "Dean, when the demon carried you outside and put you on the ground, he whispered something to you. Any chance you remember what it said?"

Dean looked extremely confused. "Huh? It did? I…I dunno, dad, I was out cold."

John nodded, looking slightly disappointed.

"Sorry," Dean felt he had to add.

John smiled warmly at him. "Don't be. I'm kinda glad you don't remember, son. It was probably just messing with your mind again anyway. Get some rest. We'll meet up with the Prescotts tomorrow to say goodbye and then hit the road. We've been here too long already."

"Yes, sir."

John ruffled his son's hair affectionately before heading out to the kitchen to get his coffee. Dean slumped down against his pillows. For once, he didn't want to leave yet. He had made a good friend here, and the Prescotts weren't so bad themselves. But that was the life of a hunter. Never get attached, never tell the truth, and move on when the hunt was over. That was just something he'd have to get used to.

TBC

Please review!!!! Nearing the end! Maybe one or two chapters left in sight. Any last minute requests you'd like to see before I wrap it up? Got some more humor and personal chats from the boys on the way, followed by the return of the Prescotts and Ethan and Emily. Thanks again to everyone who's still reading out there and for all your support. You're all my inspiration!!


	39. Harm's Way

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

When John came out of the bedroom, Sam turned frustrated eyes to Bobby. "They're done again. _Now _can I go hang out with Dean?"

Bobby chuckled. You couldn't get anything past this kid. "Yeah, go ahead. But if he gets tired, let him sleep, got it?"

"Yes, sir!" Sam scurried back into the bedroom, leaving the adults by the kitchen table. Bobby waited to see if John would say something, but when it became apparent the man was locked inside his own head, Bobby pulled him back to the present.

"So…did that little speech in there mean you won't use the boy as bait anymore?"

John sighed, knowing Bobby wouldn't be too happy with his answer.

"If I have no other options, and it comes down to Sammy or Dean…"

Bobby spun angrily till he was face to face with the other man. "John, you can't be serious!"

"Bobby, I've seen Dean as an adult. I know he makes it to at least his late twenties. That's proof that he'll be just fine."

"Maybe that was a sign that he _has _to live that long! Meanin' don't keep riskin' his life for stupid shit!"

"Hunting isn't stupid shit, Bobby! It's killin' evil and savin' innocent lives! You know that as well as I do!"

"It's fine _you_ chose this kinda life for yourself, but the boys don't have ta follow in yer footsteps. You raised them to be hunters, but you've gotta give them a chance to see what the rest of the world is like. Give them some options at least!"

"My boys aren't allowed options! If they go off on their own without proper training, they'll be dead inside a week. They're Winchesters for god's sake, which means they each have a huge supernatural target sign on their backs. They can't run from it, Bobby. No one can. There are just those who know about the things that go bump in the night, and those who get killed by it and blame rabid animals or heart attacks. My boys will learn how to defend themselves against anything I can prepare them for, and there are no ifs, ands, or buts about it!"

"I appreciate the fact you want them safe, John, but they're just boys! You can't dangle them in front of a creature and expect them to come out of it every time without a scratch!"

"I'm not naive, Bobby. I know it's a dangerous gig and there will always be a wide range of injuries but if takin' out a poltergeist means a few bumps and bruises, so be it! They'll heal."

"Cantcha hear yourself? You're talkin' about puttin' yer own boys into harm's way! I don't give a shit if you _think _you saw Dean somehow in the past, but that future could easily be changed and you know it. When you leave this town, you better take damn good care of those boys, ya hear me? If I find out they're in the hospital or bleedin' out on some crappy motel bed because of a stupid stunt you made them pull, I'll personally take you outta this world, Winchester."

"My boys will be fine. I'll never send them into anything I don't think they can handle. All I'm saying is that if it has to be one of them, Dean is better trained, stronger, faster, and his future is more certain than Sammy's. Not to mention this damn thing seems to have a sick fascination with my eldest. Yeah, we screwed up this time. But next time we will be ready. Next time, we're gonna end this thing once and for all."

"Well next time you best be doin' it on yer own. You want to risk yer life for revenge, then so be it. Send the boys away. You don't have to tell them you're goin' after it cause you know they'll want to come. But think about them first for once. Send them away, John, then go after the damn thing yourself and finish it. If you need back up, you call _me_."

_______________________________________________________________________

"How's your head, Dean?" Sam asked as he bounded into the room and practically vaulted onto the bed beside his brother. Dean groaned as the bed rocked and waited for it and his stomach to still once more.

"Fantastic, Sammy." He checked his watch and rolled his eyes when he realized he still had another ten minutes to go with the ice and the freezing burn was starting to get to him.

"The angels were watching out for you, Dean."

"Wha'?" Dean forgot about the ice and focused on his brother's broad smile.

"The angels, Dean. They won't let that demon win."

Dean chuckled at his brother's childish notions. "If you say so, little man."

"Think about it! How many times have you almost died lately?"

"More than I'd like to admit to…"

"They saved you, man. You must be really important to them."

"Nah, they don't give a crap about guys like me, Sammy." He didn't have the heart to tell his little brother he didn't believe in angels anymore. Not since his mother died.

"But you're like one of the most important people in the world!"

"Did I get elected president or somethin'? Cause I think I missed that memo…"

"_Noooo_, jerk! I mean cause of _hunting_. I think one day you'll even be better than dad."

Dean snorted in amusement. "No one's better than dad."

"You'll see, Dean. Someday, I'll prove it to you. You'll be the best of the best, and the angels will take good care of you so you can keep fighting the bad guys."

"Angels will just cramp my style." Dean sent Sam his patented smirk, and though he'd never admit it to anyone, seeing Sam's face light up in response meant all the world to him.

"Angels won't cramp your style, but that crappy, beat up leather jacket just might."

"Hey! That's my favorite jacket, bitch!"

"Maybe dad will give you his in a few years. If he doesn't ruin it first…"

"That'd be nice." Dean's arm was getting tired so he dropped the ice pack onto the bed and massaged his shoulder.

"Dean, it hasn't been fifteen minutes yet."

"So? It's close enough."

Sam shifted till he was sitting behind his brother and picked up the ice. Dean tried to turn his head to see what his little brother was up to, but it hurt his bruised throat too much.

"Sammy, come on…"

"Five more minutes, Dean." He eased the pack against his brother's head again who let out a slight groan at the pressure and burning cold, but stifled it immediately. "You know, if you didn't let the thing use you as a hackey sack all the time, you wouldn't have to ice the injuries afterwards…"

"Cute, Sam."

Sam knew that, for once, these injuries were not Dean's fault. "Sorry I forgot to give you back your knife."

Dean could hear the emotional pain in his brother's voice. "Ah, kiddo… Look, if I did have it, he could have used it against me. You never know, right? Pretty sure he'd win too. He's got a bit of strength on me."

Sam chuckled. "A bit? Dean, he has demonic powers!"

"Well, yeah… Then there's that…"

Silence fell between them as they were both caught up in their own thoughts of how the evening could have ended.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah, dude?"

"Think we'll ever get this thing?"

"If it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna kill that SOB if dad doesn't get it first. Time's up, man. Stop mother-hennin' already."

"Does it feel better yet?"

Dean smirked and let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, Sammy. It feels much better. Thanks."

Sam beamed as he came back to his brother's side and tossed the ice onto the night stand.

"Good. Hey, Dean? Did it really heal that wound dad gave you?"

"I guess you could call it that."

"Can I see?"

"It's fine, Sammy. Don't worry about it."

"Please?"

Like Dean could argue against that… Damn puppy dog eyes.

Dean lifted his shirt just enough to reveal the fresh scar and watched as Sam's eyes widened to humorous proportions.

His little brother reached out and ran a finger over it as though to prove to himself it was really there.

"Does it hurt?" Sam's eyes met Dean's once more.

"Not like it used to."

"But it hurt when he healed it, huh?" Sam flashed back to his brother writhing on the bed, crying out and begging for it to stop.

"Yeah, a bit. It was worth the pain though. I'm not bed-ridden anymore at least."

"Might want to check with dad about that before you go getting all excited."

"What? Seriously, I'm fine. I can walk across the room without feeling like my insides are gonna fall onto the floor."

"That's nasty, Dean. But how do you know? You haven't walked at all yet. You were carried in and out and were unconscious both ways."

"Good point. Well, one way to find out, right?"

"Dean, don't…"

Ignoring his brother, Dean slowly stood and taking small steps, made his way over to the kitchen door.

"See? I got it."

Sam scurried off the bed and made it to his brother's side, ready to help if needed.

"You don't need to hover, dude. I'm alright."

"Just in case."

Dean made it to the door with minimal pain, but his triumphant smirk faded when he overheard his father and Bobby talking in the kitchen.

"_I appreciate the fact you want them safe, John, but they're just boys! You can't dangle them in front of a creature and expect them to come out of it every time without a scratch!"_

"_I'm not naive, Bobby. I know it's a dangerous gig and there will always be a wide range of injuries but if takin' out a poltergeist means a few bumps and bruises, so be it! They'll heal."_

"_Cantcha hear yourself? You're talkin' about puttin' yer own boys into harm's way!"_

"Come on, Sammy. I'm actually feelin' a bit tired now. Think I'll rest for a while." Dean quickly pushed off the door and headed steadily back to the bed, hoping that Sam didn't hear what was going on in the kitchen.

"You okay, Dean?" Sam's face had fallen when Dean's had, but for two different reasons. He was afraid his brother had pushed himself too far, too fast.

"Yeah. Just need some sleep."

Sam latched onto his brother's upper arm for support and helped him back into bed, growing more nervous at the fact that Dean didn't even try to shake him off.

"Need some pain meds for your head?"

"Nah, just want my knife back."

Sam nodded and retrieved the knife from his bag, handing it back to its rightful owner.

"Thanks for keepin' it safe for me, Sammy."

"Anytime."

Dean slid his trusted knife under his pillow and laid down on top of it, more comfortable than he had been since it had been taken. The slight depression that had overtaken him at his father's empty words carried him off to sleep quickly.

TBC

Please review?


	40. Wish I Knew

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Sam kept a silent vigil over his brother as Dean slept. He was careful not to move or make a sound that would wake the older boy. He thought Dean was finally getting the rest he needed to heal. What he didn't realize was that Dean was trapped in his own mind. The demon had connected with him one last time.

"_I've missed you, Deano. Have you thought about what I said before? You do remember, don't you?"_

"_Get outta my head, you son of a bitch!"_

"_You told daddy you had no idea what he was talking about, that you were 'unconscious'…but you heard every word I said, didn't you? I wonder… Does your denial mean you're considering my words?"_

"_Never."_

"_What could you possibly gain from turning me down? You can't really like the life you have now. What are the things that you want, Dean? What are the things that you dream? You don't' even know, do you? Your only thought is 'watch out for Sammy.' 'Look after your little brother, boy!' All you have is your father's demanding voice running through your head. But that's not what you really want, is it? Think about it, Dean. All he ever does is train you. Boss you around. But Sam, Sam he dotes upon. Sam he loves. Your dad knows who you really are; a good soldier, and nothing else. You're just daddy's blunt little instrument. You heard them in the kitchen, Dean. Your own father doesn't care whether you live or die, why should you?"_

"_Shut up! Just shut the hell up!"_

Dean was starting to toss and mumble in his sleep. Sam frowned, wondering if he should wake his brother or not.

"_What did I say to you before I left? Say it!"_

"_NO!"_

"_I said '__Remember this day, Dean Winchester. Your dad will raise you as a soldier, and you will stand by my side and torture innocent souls before the end. Don't disappoint me.' Guess what, Deano? That's exactly what's going to happen. We both know it, so why fight your destiny?"_

"_It's not gonna happen."_

"_Oh yes it will, and you'll enjoy it my boy. You're good now, but not quite ready for my army. I'll leave you in the loving care of your father for a few more years to condition you, but I will be back, Dean. And that's when the party will really get started."_

"_You come near me and my family again and I will end you, understand me?!"_

Dean was sweating profusely now, tossing his head from side to side, looking as though he was in a great deal of pain. Sam reached over and gently shook his shoulder, calling his name. "Dean? Hey, wake up, bro. Dean?"

"_Dean, Dean, Dean… You'll be singing a different tune soon enough. This lifestyle will harden you, boy. Eventually, you just won't give a damn anymore. You'll lose everything and I will be there to take you under my wing… so to speak. I'm the one thing you can count on, Deano. The darkness never goes away."_

Sam bolted to the kitchen door. "Dad! Help! Dean won't wake up!"

"What?" John and Bobby stood abruptly and raced into the bedroom. Seeing his eldest struggling so much could only mean one thing. The demon was controlling his dreams. "Damn it! Dean, wake up, son…"

"_You think you can kill me, Dean? Your father tried that and we all know how well it turned out. How is your side, by the way? Bet it still twinges a bit. I couldn't erase it fully cause then you wouldn't have that wonderful reminder of what your father did. Of how easily I manipulated him. But if you think you can do better than him, take a shot. I'm right here."_

_Dean's knife appeared between them and he cautiously reached out and grasped the hilt._

John saw his son's right hand slide under his pillow and knew instantly that it was wrapping around his knife hilt. But wait, he didn't have his knife, did he?

"Sam? Did you give Dean his knife back?"

"Yes, sir."

"Everyone get away from the bed, now! Bobby, move Sam back!"

Bobby moved immediately, dragging Sam away from his stressed brother's side. John latched on to Dean's wrists, pinning them both to the bed to prevent Dean from hurting himself or anyone else. "Dean! Wake up!"

_Dean tried to lunge at the demon, but for some reason, he couldn't move. He looked furiously at the demon. "Too afraid to fight me without powers, you coward?!"_

"_I'm not holding you back, boy. Your father is."_

"_What?"_

"_Maybe he doesn't think you're good enough to take me on. But he's underestimating you, isn't he?"_

_If Dean strained his ears, he could just make out his father's voice somewhere in the distance, but had no idea what he was saying. His father _was_ holding him back._

_Dean struggled harder, intent on breaking free of his father's grip and killing the damn demon once and for all. The harder he struggled, the more force he was met with._

John was losing his grip on Dean's wrists. The boy was putting up one hell of a fight. He planted a knee in his son's stomach, concerned about the recently healed wound as he did so, but he needed to keep Dean pinned down for everyone's sake. Dean gasped, but his fighting didn't let up in the least. If anything, he just changed tactics.

Dean's knees came up, trying to unseat John's knee and make him release his wrists. "Dean, no! Listen to me, son! It's not real! Wake up!"

"Stay here, Sam!" Bobby demanded before running to help John. He grabbed Dean's ankles and pinned his legs to the mattress, allowing John to focus on keeping his arms pinned and away from the knife.

John added more pressure to Dean's stomach, hoping that by winding him, Dean would ease up.

_Dean was having trouble breathing now. It felt as though an elephant had sat down on his stomach. The pain was emanating throughout his entire abdomen and chest. His lungs were burning._

"_He's holding you back now, just as he always has. John has no idea what kind of potential you're capable of, does he? He never gives you a chance to prove yourself."_

_Dean could suddenly feel the demon's hot breath on the back of his neck. He tried to turn and lash out with the knife, but again was prevented from doing so._

"_It's frustrating, isn't it? Being held back and not knowing why…"_

_Then Dean's mind began to function again. His dad wouldn't prevent him from hurting the demon, he would prevent him from hurting Sammy. Something was wrong. His father was trying to tell him something. He couldn't let revenge blind him to everything else. Sammy came first. He focused on his father's voice, willing it to make sense. To his amazement, it worked._

"_Dean! It's not real! Wake up, son! Don't let him fool you!"_

_So that was it. It was all a dream. Just like what the demon did to John before, making him stab his eldest son. Dean looked down at his hand which was still clenched around the knife and released it abruptly. He didn't care if the demon wanted to fight. He'd rather die than risk hurting one of the people he loved._

John felt the fight leave his son and saw his arm relax as he released the knife. "Dean?"

Oh god, Dean had given up. The demon had won after all.

"_Pick up the knife, Dean."_

"_No."_

"_Don't you want to kill me? I know you do. Here's your chance."_

"_That's how you got to my dad, isn't it? All that shit about him not caring, about him sacrificing me for the greater good… He was fighting _you_ the whole time, wasn't he?!"_

_The demon beamed. "I knew it. You _are_ better than your father ever was. Don't forget that, son. We'll meet again. Ta ta for now."_

Dean woke with a start but found he couldn't sit up and it was a struggle to draw in air. Something was keeping him pinned to the mattress with a lot of excess force. He looked up to find his dad practically sitting on him and no doubt leaving bruises on his wrists.

"Dean? You back with us, kiddo?"

John was borderline panicking. There was no way the demon would just let Dean go. What had happened? Did Dean really give in to it? Did he make a foolish deal? He eased the pressure off of Dean's stomach but didn't release him entirely. Not until he knew they were in the clear.

Dean pulled in a few deeper breaths to calm his rapidly beating heart. "Thanks, dad."

His father froze, wondering where this was going. "For what?"

"For saving me."

John looked perplexed. He figured Dean would be pissed about being prevented from killing "the demon." Then again, Dean was always a special kid. He never took things at face value.

Though John might not have realized it, it was his voice that had alerted Dean to the fact he was dreaming. It was John's weight that prevented Dean from doing something he'd regret for the rest of his life. It was figuring out his father's mistake that brought him out of it. When John was faced with the same challenge, he let revenge cloud his mind and in return nearly lost one of the few things he had left in this world. Dean knew that his family meant more to him than revenge ever could, and therefore, he beat the demon. This time.

John released his son, checking for any damage he may have inflicted unintentionally.

"You alright, Dean? What did you see?"

"The demon. Don't worry dad. We won this round."

"Are you alright? Did it hurt you? Did _I _hurt you?"

"I'm good. A little winded though. No more late night snacks for you..."

"What happened?"

"It tried to push me into lashing out. I refused though, dad. I knew it couldn't be that easy, and I heard your voice."

"Then you did what I couldn't." John looked ashamed at his own weakness. Dean gripped his forearm in comfort.

"It's okay, dad. We didn't understand what was happening then. Plus it wasn't just the demon messin' with you, was it?"

"No. It had a little help from a dream demon."

"A _dream _demon? You made that up, right?"

"Wish I did. Nasty little critters… Yer daddy sent it packin' though."

"Well if he needed one of those to get to you guys… How is the demon still gettin' to me?"

"Wish I knew, kiddo."

TBC

Sooooo sorry for the long wait! I've been working crazy hours lately and I didn't want to post a rushed version. Hope this was worth it! Suggestions? Please review!

PS: RIP Kim Manners. He was a brilliant director and I send my thoughts and condolences to everyone who knew him.


	41. Back On Track

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

After making sure Dean was indeed okay, John and Bobby made their way to the kitchen once more. Both men were thinking it, but Bobby was the first to throw it out into the open.

"We killed the dream demon, right? We know that for a fact?"

"Yeah, Bobby. There's no way it survived."

"Think he has more workin' for it?"

"I suppose nothin's impossible. So… what? You think he's got a whole damn army of these things?"

"Well we know he's buildin' some sort of army. Never got into the specifics."

"There is another possibility though…"

"You think the demon has some sort of connection to Dean, don't you?"

"I know what it did to Sam that night, but I never thought it went near Dean. That's breakin' pattern. He goes after these kids at six months old. Dean was four."

"It would explain how he can control the migraines. Did you ever think to ask Dean about that night?"

"I guess I've always hoped he wouldn't remember anything. He was so young…"

"True, but that sort of event isn't easily forgotten, John. Seems like no matter how you try to make that kid forget, he finds a way around it."

"About that… What am I gonna do, Bobby? I don't think I have what it takes to watch Dean drink that potion again."

"So don't. The boy has had his head screwed with enough lately. He's a strong kid. He can handle it, even if you can't."

"He shouldn't have to. He's only fifteen, and what little life he's had so far is filled with horrible memories. He never had the chance to just be a normal kid. I made him grow up too fast, Bobby."

"You did what you had to, John. No one can fault you for that. But it's lucky that potion wore off again. Maybe now you can get some answers."

"I'll talk to him. Can you call the Prescotts and tell them we're headin' out of town soon if they want to say goodbye? I want to put this place in my rearview mirror as soon as possible."

"You got it."

Bobby clapped John on the shoulder for support, then took his cell phone and went outside to make the call. John could hear the shower running and knew he wouldn't have long to talk to Dean before his youngest came back out and attached himself to his big brother's side again. After taking a moment to collect himself, he went back into the bedroom.

John paused in the doorway, taking in his eldest boy. Dean was reclined back on his pillows, staring at the ceiling and apparently in deep thought. John cleared his throat from just inside the door so as not to startle his son.

Dean blinked a few times, then looked over at him. John didn't say a word until he made it to Dean's bed and sat down.

"What were you thinkin' about, kiddo?"

"Huh? Oh, nothin'. Just tryin' to make sense of some stuff. What's up?"

"Dean, I've got to ask you something… What do you remember from the night Mary… the night your mom died?"

Dean looked momentarily shocked. His dad rarely ever brought up that night. It was a sensitive subject, and on more than one occasion, John had erased his memory, preventing discussions like these.

"Uh, I… I remember the heat from the fire, the smell, how hard it was to breathe with all the smoke, I remember you… and that I carried Sammy out the front door."

"Anything about the demon?"

"What? Dad, I…"

"Dean. Please, I need to know. Tell me the truth. Did you see the demon that night."

Dean's mouth was opening and closing like a fish, at a complete loss for words. He broke eye contact with his father, staring at his white knuckled hands fisting the sheets across his abdomen.

"Son?" John prodded gently.

Dean's eyes began darting back and forth rapidly as though he was watching the scene unfold right before his eyes.

"It walked past my bedroom door. I thought it was you. But then it doubled back when I called out for you. I don't remember why I did it. Probably just wanted a drink or something… but it came back, and I saw its eyes. I knew it wasn't you then. It stared at me for the longest time, staying in the shadows. Then I saw it smirk in that slow, kind of crazed way. I don't think it knew I existed before that night. Like I was a bonus treat or something. It started walking towards me, so I hid underneath my blankets. About a minute later it pulled them off of me. I couldn't stop staring into its eyes, like they were hypnotic or somethin'. Then…" Dean paused.

"Dean? What happened next?" John wasn't sure he wanted to hear the rest. Dean made eye contact with him again, broken out of his flashback.

"I… I'm not sure. It put its hand on my head, then next thing I knew, I was alone in my room again and I could smell smoke. I ran out to find you and you were in Sammy's room. You know what happened from there."

John nodded, trying to stay composed. "How long have you remembered all this?"

"Since my little episode at the school. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, dad. I didn't want you to erase my memory again."

"I was just trying to protect you from it all, Dean."

"I know that, sir. But I feel safer knowing than having that empty void and wondering why. Are you gonna make me drink that stuff again?"

John knew Dean wouldn't put up a fight if he asked him to take the potion, but he couldn't bring himself to put them both through it a third time.

"No. They're your memories, Dean, and I know now that it's not my place to mess with them. I'm sorry I didn't listen last time."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. Dean, I know I've trained you to believe everything I say is right and that you shouldn't question my orders, but I'm only human. I make mistakes. I trust your instincts, son. So from now on, if you think I'm making a bad call, I want to hear about it, okay? Sometimes I can get blinded by this job and I need someone to ground me again. Can you do that for me, kiddo?"

"Yes, sir."

John heard the shower shut off and knew they only had a few more minutes before Sam would rejoin them, still half drenched in his haste to get back to Dean.

"Alright. You gonna take a shower when Sam gets out? I gotta say you don't exactly smell like roses right now."

"Gee… wonder why. Yeah, if the squirt left me some hot water. Though judgin' by how fast he jumped in and out, I think it's a safe bet."

John grinned. "I think you're right."

Sam came scurrying out the bathroom door, his clean clothes sticking to his barely dried body.

"Ever heard of towels, Sammy?" Dean asked as his little brother hopped up on the bed next to him.

"Have you _seen _the towels in this motel, Dean? You won't use one either if you want to stay clean."

Dean's nose crinkled at the thought. "Well, my turn now. I haven't had the luxury of taking a shower in… I have no idea how long."

"Don't worry. The doc and I kept you nice and clean." Sam beamed.

"You what?" Dean was sure he had misheard.

"We gave you a sponge bath so to speak… and brushed your teeth, and made you do exorcises like a little puppet…"

"Dad?!" Dean yelled indignantly, hoping his father would deny it all and say Sam was just teasing him. John outright laughed at the expression on his eldest's face.

"Sorry, kid. But like I was told, wasn't like you were able to do it yourself."

"Well this is just humiliating…"

"Be thankful. The doc wanted Mrs. Prescott to help him wash you."

"WHAT?! Please tell me she didn't see… I mean, only you guys were in here, right?"

Sam was laughing so hard he nearly fell off the bed. "Calm down, Dean. I had your back, man. I told him you'd be pissed if he let her help."

"Oh, thank you, Sammy. I owe you so big, little brother."

"Damn right you do. That would have been high quality entertainment."

"And in repayment, I won't kill you for that statement."

"Oh we are far from even, bro. Don't worry, I'll think of some way for you to pay me back. Like doing the laundry for a week…"

Dean groaned and sank back into his pillows, giving his father a pleading look for backup.

"Sorry, Dean. This is between you and your brother." It took all the willpower he had not to chuckle at his son's misfortune. Things were finally getting back on track. He missed hearing Sam's laugh and the boys' bickering, though he would never admit to the last one.

"Even with the cleaning, you still stink Dean. I'd grab a shower if I were you."

"Feelin' the love here. Fine, I'll be back in a few."

Dean was more than relieved that he barely felt a twinge as he rose stiffly from his bed, gathered some reasonably clean clothes from his duffle bag, and headed for the bathroom.

"Don't lock the door, Dean," John warned him just as he was closing the door. He heard his son's grumbled _yeah, yeah, yeah…_and finally let loose the laughter he had been holding back at his son's expense.

He and Sam were stripping down Dean's bed when Bobby came back in.

"The Prescott family is on its way."

TBC

One or two left to wrap everything up! Thank you guys so much for all the support and reviews! You guys keep me writing! After this story, I think I'm going to give writing one shots a try as my schedule has been picking up in pace, so if you think of any ideas you'd like me to attempt, just let me know! Even if it's just a word or phrase you want me to work in like the challenge words. Any inspiration helps!


	42. Everything is Just Fine

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Dean had never appreciated a shower more in his life. The hot spray relieved all the tension and aches his body had been carrying for days. He rested his hand against the wall behind the shower head and ducked underneath the water, letting it cascade down his back. He could still hear his brother and father laughing in the other room and allowed himself a genuine smile. God, he missed that.

He let the water wash away the horrible memories that his father's questioning had brought back to light. Okay, so maybe he wasn't completely honest about what happened the night his mother died, but some things were better left unsaid. He just wanted to leave the past in the past, and focus on the present.

Dean was telling the truth about seeing the demon and thinking it was John. He meant every word up until the point of where the demon put his hand on Dean's head. From there, he glossed over a few details, such as the excruciating pain that ricocheted through his skull before consciousness was torn away from him and he was thrust into blackness. He also left out the part where his mother's screaming was what brought him back from it. Those little details his father didn't need to know. Four years old or not, those experiences are hard to forget.

When the water began to cool off, he reluctantly shut it off and stepped out of the tub. Sam was right, the towels were pretty nasty. He grimaced, then looked at his shirt. It would have to do.

Dean stepped out of the bathroom wearing only his jeans but he was considerably dryer than his brother. Sam was waiting for him to make sure he was okay and arched an eyebrow at his big brother's apparent clothing malfunction. His first thought was that Dean was still in too much pain to pull a shirt over his head.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine, Sam. Why?" Dean began searching through his bag a second time for a reasonably clean shirt.

"What happened to your other shirt?"

"Made a better towel than those stained rags in there."

After realizing what his brother had done, Sam burst into giggles again. "Dude, you are so weird!"

"Well at least I'm dry!"

"Good call. Got an extra shirt I can borrow?"

"What do you think this is, a Laundromat? Get your own! You've used enough of my shirts already."

"Nah, I'm good." Sam smirked. What Dean didn't know was that his little brother had already stolen one of his shirts and was wearing it underneath his own button up shirt. Switching back to serious mode, Sam had to make sure one last time. "You are okay though, right?"

Dean stopped rifling around in his bag and looked up at his brother's innocent and concerned expression. "I'm good as new, little brother. Stop worryin', alright?"

Sam bit his lip but nodded back. It would take a while before he saw Dean as the unbreakable and indestructible big brother he used to be. This incident was just a little bit too close for comfort. He had to make Dean understand.

"Dean, I just…"

Dean pulled the clean shirt on over his head, watched Sam struggle for the right words, then stood up with a deep sigh and made his way to his brother's side. He put his hands on Sam's shoulders and steered him to the mattress before gently pushing him to sit, then squatted down in front of him.

"Talk to me, little man. What's got your panties in a twist?"

Sam tried again. "Dean, I need you to take better care of yourself."

His brother quirked an eyebrow, clearly thrown by the request. "What are you talkin' about? Is this about letting dad use me for bait?"

"Yeah, partly. But it's everything. You think I don't realize how much you've given up for me over the years? How many times you've saved my life, or dad's? Even when we were kids, you'd stand between me and the traffic, or you'd keep an eye on me at school to make sure the bullies don't bother me."

"Well you've always been a bit of a geek, kiddo," Dean smirked, starting to look uncomfortable about the discussion and about how much Sam noticed.

"I can handle myself, Dean. Dad sure as hell can."

"So can I."

"I know that, but you don't. You're the strongest one out of all of us. You have the best street smarts, the most knowledge of weapons, and you have the biggest heart. Dean, I love you for looking after me and dad so well, but it's gonna get you killed someday, and I can't… I won't…"

"Hey, hey, Sammy… Like you said, man, I'm good at what I do. No little spirit is gonna get the best of me, okay? I'd never live it down and you know it."

Sam took a deep breath to calm himself a little but couldn't hold back a half smile and roll of the eyes at Dean's last statement.

"Why don't you care about yourself, Dean? What's wrong with you? Everyone who knows you can see your potential; can see the good in you. We must be the worst family in the world. You've always been here for us, but we've never been there for you, have we? We just keep leaning on you and we've never stopped to think how much you could actually hold. But you mean more to us, man. You always have, even if we suck at showing it."

Dean swallowed hard and put his hand on Sam's knee under the guise of needing the balance instead of comforting his brother. "Ya done, Sammy?"

Sam nodded, looking dejected.

"Good. My turn. Sam, you and dad are all I have and all I've ever wanted, okay? You've never held me back or been a liability, understand? I don't risk my life cause it doesn't mean anything to me, I do it cause I need you and dad in it and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you that way. You guys _are _my life, and if a few scratches or broken bones keep us together, then it's well worth it. Don't you _ever_ feel responsible for my decisions. After all, it's my job to look after my little geek brother who has the ability to turn _every_ damn moment into a massive chick flick scene because he _knows_ it drives his big brother insane. So if you're askin' me to stand by and watch you get hurt when there's somethin' I can do to prevent it, I can't and I won't. Sorry. But I can promise you I won't risk my life unless there's a damn good reason for it. Fair enough?"

Sam nodded and wiped a few tears from his cheeks. Something was better than nothing. "Just don't forget I need you in my life too, okay?"

"I'm not goin' anywhere."

Dean gave Sam's knee a small squeeze then pushed himself to his feet. "Chick flick moment officially over?"

"Not just yet…" Sam slid off the bed and pulled his brother into a tight hug. "Thank you, Dean. For everything."

Once Dean got over the initial shock of the attack hug, he wrapped his arms around Sam and returned it. "You're welcome, Sammy."

Sam slackened his grip enough to look up at Dean. "The Prescotts should be here soon. Dad wants to hit the road again."

"Story of our lives, huh? Come on. Let's finish packing our crap and then go see what the others are up to."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam and Dean walked in to the kitchen five minutes later, bags in hand and Dean's arm slung around his baby brother's shoulders. John and Bobby were sitting at the table drinking coffee. John quirked an eyebrow at the boys' obvious display of affection. It was a rarity in the Winchester family after all, no matter how much they truly loved each other.

"Everythin' alright?"

"Yeah, dad. Everything is just fine," Dean replied and Sam beamed. He knew Dean was going to say that.

TBC

Sorry this chapter is a little shorter than normal, but I think the length of the last chapter is going to make up for it haha. Just one to go. Please review!


	43. Fate is Funny Like that Sometimes

Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hey everyone! Sorry about the ad for the last chapter, but I'm helping to put the event together and promised I'd help get the word out! Here's the last chapter since you guys were so patient with me! Hope you like it, and please review!!

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Just as the Winchesters were loading the last few bags into the Impala, the Prescotts pulled up beside them. Ethan opened the back door and just barely made it out of the way before Emma slid out and raced over to the boys. She threw her arms around Dean's waist, making him stagger back a few steps in surprise.

"You're all better now!"

He gave her his patented Dean smirk and patted her gently on the back. "No injury can keep _me_ out of the game for very long."

Mr. and Mrs. Prescott looked completely shocked and confused at Dean's miraculous recovery. Roger turned to John for answers. "John, what … I mean, is he…?"

John gave the man a weary smile. "Come on inside. I'll explain everything. Dean, you boys stay close, you hear me?" he added over his shoulder as he and the Prescotts headed into the motel.

"Yes, sir," came the automatic reply. Dean knew the unspoken agreement was also to watch out for everyone present, especially Sammy.

Ethan made his way over to the boys and his sister who had yet to detach herself from Dean. "Hey, Emma, easy on him, alright?"

"I'm fine, Ethan. Seriously," Dean insisted.

"Dude, you were stuck in that bed for days. What the hell happened?"

"Long story, but there's nothin' left but a scar. I'm good to go."

Ethan looked around and saw that Bobby's truck was still in the yard. "Bobby going with you guys?"

"Nah, I think he's headed home for now. He's just doin' a last check of the motel to make sure we don't leave anything behind."

"Where are you guys headed?"

"Wherever the hunts lead us. There's always gonna be somethin' evil lurking around. We'll take them on one town at a time."

"You guys lead such weird lives, you know that?"

"Says the guy who was 'attacked by a water horse'…"

"Hey, it could happen. 'My dad beat the shit outta me' just sounded so clichéd."

Dean's mind kicked in to high gear. He was desperately searching for a way to help his newfound friend. Then it dawned on him. He gently pried Emma from his waist.

"Can you hang out with Sammy here for a little while, kiddo? I need to borrow your brother for a sec."

Emma nodded and took Sam's offered hand. He had overheard his brother's request and shot Dean a questioning look. Dean just winked, conveying easily that everything was just fine.

"Why don't you bring her inside, Sammy, then meet us out back? Ethan, follow me."

Dean headed off to the grassier section of land behind the motel. Sam grumbled under his breath as he led Emma inside, wondering what on earth his brother was up to. After a few seconds of stunned curiosity, Ethan jogged to catch up with Dean.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm gonna teach you how to spar."

"How to _what_?"

Once they reached the area Dean had chosen, the middle Winchester held up his fists in a professional fighter's stance and Ethan took a few steps back.

"Nuh uh. I've had enough fighting for one month, thanks."

Dean scoffed. "I'm not gonna hurt you, man. Earlier you told me that you didn't know how to fight. I'll teach you a few moves that might come in handy at some point if you ever have to defend yourself again."

Dean glanced over at the back door, expecting to see Sam walking out at any minute. He quickly gave up on waiting.

"Dude! Get your ass out here!" Dean shouted to the closed door. A second later, a somewhat annoyed looking Sam came out.

"You beckoned, oh loud one? I was just grabbing a drink…"

"Kick your shoes off."

"Come on, Dean… Now? Don't you ever get sick of sparring?"

"Sick of kickin' ass? Never. 'Specially not yours. Let's go."

"Fine," Sam huffed, toeing off his shoes and setting up across from his brother. "You sure you're up for this already?"

"Sammy, I swear if you ask me that one more time…"

"Okay, okay! I just wanted to make sure…"

"You make the first move. Watch closely, Ethan." Sam took two steps towards Dean before he found himself looking up at the sky. "Wow. That was so easy I'm almost embarrassed for you, little man."

"Get off. I wasn't ready. Let's go again."

Dean shrugged. "Your funeral."

Ethan was relaxing again and thoroughly enjoying watching the brothers interact. He had never had an older brother to look out for him or teach him how to defend himself.

But for the first time in a long time, he wasn't worried about his dad coming after him. Right now, he was actually enjoying himself. He watched the boys duke it out and laughed every time Dean gave his brother that cocky smirk and Sam demanded a do-over. Ethan loved his little sister, but sometimes he wished he had a brother to bond with and teach him things like sparring.

He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear Dean calling him until the third attempt.

"Hey, Ethan, you alright, man?" Dean looked concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Alright then. Your turn."

"What makes you think I want _my_ ass handed to me by you?" he snorted.

"Oh come on. It'll be fun. I'll go easy on ya, promise. First, let's get you into a proper fighting stance…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Bobby and John watched Dean through the back window as he helped show Ethan the easiest way to take down a bigger opponent. They had just finished explaining Dean's miraculous recovery to the Prescotts who were now sitting at the kitchen table with Emma.

John smiled proudly at his son's skill. Bobby nudged him with a smirk of his own.

"You taught him well, John."

"I just taught him the basics. The skill is all his own."

"Bet he could kick _your_ ass these days," Bobby teased.

"Let's not get crazy here," John warned good-naturedly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dean and Ethan squared up against each other again. "Think you'll come back and visit someday?" Ethan asked, half out of curiosity and half just trying to distract Dean as he prepared to make his next move.

"No idea." Dean easily dodged a punch Ethan threw his way half-heartedly. "Dude, you swing like a girl. Come on, take a _real_ shot!"

"I don't wanna hurt you, Dean."

"Too damn bad. You wanna learn to fight, you need to learn how to throw a decent punch. Now let's go. Pretend I'm your dad."

"No, I couldn't…"

"Yes, you can. I just got drunk cause the Red Sox lost big time to the damn Yankees and you know what? Your sister looks like fair game today. Think I'll mess up her pretty little face cause you're just no fun to beat the shit out of anymore." Dean knew it was harsh but necessary. Though his stomach clenched in disgust at his own words, he needed to show Ethan how to channel his anger and turn it into power.

"Stay away from my sister," Ethan growled, starting to visualize being back in his house with his sister cowering behind him and a furious and drunken father in front of him.

"Or you'll do what exactly? You're too pathetic to stand up for yourself. What makes you think you can protect her from me?"

"I…"

Dean began to advance towards him with an arm raised as though to strike, fully aware he was leaving himself wide open for a hit. Ethan saw his father advancing and snapped. He was sick of being weak. He was sick of playing the punching bag and not having the guts to fight back. Damn it, he wasn't pathetic!

"I hate you, you son-of-a-bitch!" he screamed as he lunged at Dean, taking him down to the ground and pinning him. Both Sam and Dean were in shock that Ethan had learned so quickly and that he had already bested Dean, something Sam had been trying to do for years. Mind you, Dean had intentionally made himself vulnerable to see if Ethan would take the shot.

Ethan drew back his fist and swung forward, but pulled it at the last second and sent his knuckles deep into the dirt beside Dean's head who barely flinched. He knew Ethan would realize that it was him before causing him pain. He didn't know how he knew, he just trusted the kid. Sam was a bit more panicked however.

"Dean! Dean, are you okay? Get off him!" He ran forward and pushed Ethan sideways to get to Dean.

"I'm fine, Sammy. Chill, dude. Nice take down, Ethan. I never would have believed it. Oh, and if anyone asks, I'm totally denying that you knocked my ass to the ground."

Dean reached out a hand and helped a shaking Ethan to his feet. "Oh my god… Dean, I'm so sorry. I could've killed you!"

"Nah. I would've stopped you first. I knew you just needed to let out some steam. No sweat."

"Are you seriously okay? I didn't hurt you again, did I? Jesus, and I was just telling Emma to take it easy on…"

"Whoa, hey. You? Hurt me? Never," though he did wince slightly as he straightened up. He would never admit it, but that was a pretty hard take down. He wouldn't be surprised if he had a few new bruises around his abdomen but it was worth it. Ethan could protect himself now. Of that, he had no doubts. "You guys will be just fine."

"Thanks, Dean. For everything."

"No sweat. Just look after that little sister of yours for me, alright? I think you guys will be just fine with the Prescotts though. They're pretty cool people."

"Yeah, they are. Apparently Roger clocked my dad pretty good the other day, and his wife is taking us shopping tomorrow cause she refuses to let us go back to our old place and pick up our stuff. She doesn't want us anywhere near our dad. Can't say I'm complaining."

"Boys! Time to say goodbye!" John called out the back door as everyone inside made their way back out to the vehicles.

"Guess we'll see you around," Dean stated and held out a hand. Ethan shook it, then pulled Dean forward for a quick hug goodbye and clapped him on the back.

"Take care of yourself, you hear?"

"Yeah, you too."

Ethan turned to Sam. "Are we cool, man?"

Sam considered the peace offering, noted that his brother was indeed perfectly fine, then gave Ethan a small smile and held his own hand out. "Yeah, we're cool." Ethan smiled back and shook Sam's hand before messing up the kid's hair in a brotherly gesture. Dean was surprised that Sam didn't even complain. He usually got pissed when his big brother messed his moppy hair up.

The three boys met up with Emma and the adults around front. Emma and Mrs. Prescott hugged everyone goodbye and Mr. Prescott shook hands all around. "You guys be careful, alright? And don't hesitate to call me if you're in the area and need a little medical assistance," Roger offered.

"You got it," John responded as he was the last to shake Roger's hand. "Thanks for lookin' after my boys."

"It was the least I could do after everything you guys have done for us. Keep in touch, alright?"

"We'll do our best."

Ethan shook Bobby's hand last and the older man was reminded of how they came to meet not so long ago. He shook his head and laughed out loud. "A water horse, huh? Creative. I'm willin' to bet there'll be a movie about that crazy critter in the near future. Take care, son."

"You too, Bobby, and thanks for everything. More particularly, taking my dad on. I heard you and John did a number on him."

"He got what was comin' to him. I'm glad you kids got a second chance. The Prescotts are one of a kind."

"Yeah, I sort of got that impression. Down side is I'll have to actually do my homework now since my teacher is my new mom."

"Gotta take the bad with the good I suppose. See you around, kid."

Bobby hugged each of the Winchester boys and nodded his head to John. He knew they'd meet up again soon enough.

Dean gently squeezed Sam's shoulders and pulled him backwards for a one-armed hug that basically turned into a choke hold. After all, he didn't do chick flick moments.

Once all their goodbyes had been said, they each got into their respective vehicles and pulled out of the driveway headed in different directions. None of them were foolish enough to believe that their paths wouldn't intersect again at some point. Fate is funny like that sometimes.

THE END

Thanks again to all the amazing reviewers out there! It's you guys who keeps me writing and inspired! I have a lot on my plate right now so I don't think I can handle 40 chapter stories at this time, but if you have ideas for one shots you would like me to attempt, I will give them my best effort! Take care for now!


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